Girl Vs (Sinister Skies Book 1)

by Xela Culletto

  “There was some call to have you sent back to the jail,” Dr. Webb went on, “once you’re recovered. They’re sending over someone over to talk to you before a decision is made.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I protested in a weak voice. “I wasn’t even—“

  He raised his hands.

  “Don’t tell me—save it for the psychoanalyst.”

  “Psychoanalyst?”

  “She’s stopping by tomorrow, so I suggest you get some rest.”

  Resting wasn’t really a choice I had—there were so many drugs pumped into my system that even as I tried to form a question, I was falling asleep. I couldn’t help it—it was the best I’d felt since the first blip of spaceship I’d seen on the news. Almost content, I hugged a fluffy pillow as my eyes slipped closed.

  Chapter 38

  The next day found me in a fresh hospital gown eating chicken soup and crackers while the sun shone in to my little room. Liam had been in to change the dressing on my newly stitched-up back, and had also brought some wildflowers.

  “From Claire,” he informed me. “She heard you were here. She wanted to come in person, but no visitors are allowed until you you’ve talked with Allison.”

  Why did that name sound familiar?

  “Is she the psychologist?”

  “Psychoanalyst.”

  “Why do I have to talk to her?”

  “Well, everything’s in a bit of chaos, with the Captain gone. No one was quite sure what to do with you until someone came up with the idea to have Allison talk to you. She’s going to decide how big of a risk you are to society.”

  So my freedom depended on convincing some shrink that I wasn’t crazy. Great.

  “And there she is,” Liam said as he surveyed the parking lot through the window. “I’ll just go meet her.”

  He went out, leaving me in a quiet room with nothing but my thoughts for company. I wasn’t sure I could do this—all I knew about shrinks was that they liked people to talk, and I’d never been big on that. Evidently, I was going to have to try though. Of all the things that had happened, it was utterly ridiculous that this was what would give me butterflies.

  Just tell the truth, I told myself. It’s not like you did anything wrong.

  I only hoped I could convince the shrink of that.

  She stepped in. She was younger than I’d anticipated, with light brown hair and a pale pink top over jeans. She smiled genuinely as she introduced herself, but didn’t offer to shake hands, which I was glad for.

  “Hello, Rhyan, I’m Allison. It’s nice to meet you.”

  I nodded slightly in response. She settled into the chair next to my bed and I pushed my lunch tray away.

  “Is it safe to assume you know why I’m here?” she asked.

  “You’re supposed to make sure I’m not a homicidal maniac bent on slaughtering the town.”

  She chuckled a little.

  “Something like that. Before we begin, do you have any questions for me?”

  Suddenly a memory slid into place and I realized who she must have been.

  “Were you Tristen’s roommate? Back in the Vela prison?”

  Her eyebrows rose.

  “Yes, I was. You know Tristen?”

  I looked away, not wanting to tell her what had happened. She figured it out anyway.

  “He didn’t make it, did he?”

  I shook my head.

  “What a tragedy. He was a good person.”

  “He talked about you. Told me about your theories.”

  “Hm,” she murmured. “And what did you think about my theories?”

  “Pretty far-fetched. You really think they would come all the way here to save the planet by killing us off?”

  “I do,” she replied. “I have no doubt their acts are heroic to their way of thinking.”

  “Well to my way of thinking they’re nothing but a bunch of murderers.”

  “They killed your family, didn’t they?”

  “They’ve killed everyone’s family, almost. Yours too, probably.”

  She nodded, her expression unreadable.

  “I hate them,” I said.

  “You aren’t alone in that. Most everyone does.”

  “Don’t you?”

  She was thoughtful for a moment.

  “I certainly wish they hadn’t come. But hate—hating the aliens would be the same as hating the change of the seasons. It’s something that simply is. The only thing hate is going to bring you is wasted energy.”

  “Oh geez, you’re one of those yoga-type people, aren’t you,” I groaned.

  She laughed good-naturedly then said, “Tell me about Kalisha.”

  Instantly I was wary. I wasn’t sure what Allison’s angle was, but I didn’t want to say anything that might harm one of my few friends.

  “She’s a good person.”

  “How so?”

  “She helped me—she didn’t have to, but she did. She would help anyone who needed it.”

  “What about the Captain?”

  Looking away toward the window I muttered, “He deserved what he got.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He… attacked Kalisha. Before she left. Actually the only reason she left was because he threatened to kill her.”

  “She told you this?”

  “Yes—and it’s true. I saw the cut she gave him when they fought.”

  “She planned to get revenge then?”

  “No—she kept saying she didn’t want to come back. But she did, to help me. And then he was there—just standing right in front of us and….”

  I trailed off, not wanting to say more for fear of incriminating Kalisha somehow. I couldn’t believe how much I’d said already. Allison was easier to talk to than I’d expected.

  “Have you ever been driven to the point Kalisha was?”

  It took me a second to register what the question meant.

  “You mean have I ever killed anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  John’s lifeless body came to mind and my heart seized. There was no way I could lie. I was terrible at it and regardless, surely she’d been trained to recognize a liar.

  I nodded.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  So no. But I also wanted to not go back to the prison. Briefly and robotically, I explained the circumstances that led to John’s death. When I finished, the only reaction Allison had was to nod.

  “Thank you for sharing that,” she said smoothly.

  “Are you going to tell them to send me back to prison?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Of course not!”

  “What do you want?”

  What did I want? I wanted to go home and play video games with Zach and make microwave popcorn and tease Dad about his beard and go to school. Well, not school.

  As if reading my mind Allison said, “You won’t get anywhere spending your life wishing it was something it isn’t.”

  She settled back in her chair, looking squarely at me, and repeated her question.

  “So, what do you want?”

  “I want to fight.”

  “Okay. Suppose you fight. Suppose we win. Every last alien is killed off. What then?”

  A moment of silence passed.

  “I don’t know.”

  “That’s something you should think about.”

  Exasperated with the direction the conversation had taken I said, “Are you going to send me back to prison or not?”

  “That’s not my call.”

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  “I’m sure someone will be in touch soon. Maybe this evening.”

  I scowled.

  “Finish your lunch,” Allison said, looking at the soup that was sure to be cold. “I hope you have a quick recovery.”

  Then, taking my future with her, she slipped out.

  Chapter 39

  I spent the rest of that afternoon thinking of all the things I should’ve said to convince Allison n
ot to send me back to jail. Like how I could be helpful, protecting the city’s borders, or training people to fight or something. All in all, the meeting hadn’t gone that well; surely there was something more persuasive I could’ve said.

  So when an unfamiliar man knocked on my door that evening and announced that as soon as Dr. Webb gave approval I would be free to go, I was astounded.

  “One stipulation: you are not to contact Kalisha in any way. She will remain in the prison and only those authorized are allowed to see her. Understand?”

  I nodded, feeling a little traitorous. Kalisha had stood by me when I needed her and now it seemed I was leaving her to the wolves.

  Dr. Webb came by and, upon examining it, remarked how quickly the injury seemed to be healing. I was glad to hear that because lying in bed all day gave me entirely too much time to think. Mostly about people: John, Tristen, Kalisha, Vanessa. People who would have different lives, and in some cases, deaths, if not for me.

  I also couldn’t help but think—curse her—about Allison’s question. What did I want? Truth was, I didn’t know. I’d been going so long on just survival and revenge. Without the fight, I didn’t have any purpose. What did that make me?

  The next several days were filled with exams, pills, boredom, and sleep. I wasn’t sure what the doctor had me on, but I was practically sleeping ‘round the clock. The only people I ever saw was Dr. Webb and Liam. Based on the sounds that came from down the hall, I assumed there were other patients, but I never asked about them.

  Finally, after one exceptionally uneventful afternoon, Dr. Webb came in to announce that I would be allowed to leave the following day. For someone whose life was without direction, I was irrationally elated.

  Morning came and I practically vaulted out of bed. Thanks to the proper balance of physical therapy and rest, my back felt a thousand times better. I would praise Dr. Webb’s name ‘til the end of time.

  He asked if I wanted him to draw a map so I could find my way around, specifically back to the studio apartment that had been kept for me, which I accepted gratefully. When he finished, I asked him to add one more thing: the stables. He obliged and since it was so close, I decided to head there first.

  The morning was brisk and it dawned on me the seasons were in transition. Autumn would descend soon.

  I turned the final corner to the stables and Lucky came into view. My heart leapt in my chest. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d missed him until that moment. So much had happened since the last time I’d seen him. I almost felt like a different person. He was grazing in the paddock, but raised his head at my approach. I stepped closer to the fence and he trotted over.

  “Missed you, boy,” I murmured, running my hand through his black mane. He ruffled my hair with his muzzle.

  “Looks like you’ve been taking it easy.” He was undeniably more rotund than he’d been when we arrived at the city. I made a mental note to take him for a ride soon.

  “Rhyan?” a voice asked. Turning, I saw Caleb standing next to a shed pushing a wheelbarrow. Leaving it, he came over and leaned on the paddock fence next to me.

  “I didn’t think you’d be out of the hospital for a while,” he said.

  “Yeah, well. Fast healer, I guess.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Thanks for sending the nurse.”

  “Of course.”

  “How’s Kalisha—do you know?”

  “They haven’t let anyone in to see her since that first day.”

  I sighed. It wasn’t fair—me being out in the sunshine while she wasted away in a windowless cell.

  “He’s happy to see you,” Caleb said, nodding toward Lucky who was butting his nose against my arm.

  “I missed him.”

  “Want to go for a ride?”

  “I was thinking tomorrow.”

  “You shouldn’t ride alone, though—you just had surgery.”

  “Are you inviting yourself along?”

  “Well, I—“ he stammered.

  “Okay,” I said, interrupting him. “You’re probably right, I shouldn’t ride alone.”

  “Nine o’clock?”

  “All right.”

  “Tomorrow, then.”

  He went back to whatever he’d been doing and I gave Lucky one last pat before leaving.

  Half an hour and only one wrong turn later, I was sitting on the brown sofa in the studio apartment. Gazing around the room was wholly depressing. It was completely untouched—even the blinds were still at the unsightly forty-five degree angle I’d left them. The whole ambience proclaimed alone, alone, alone.

  Still, it had running water and a space heater and wasn’t crawling with hideous beasts—I really couldn’t complain. Searching the cabinets, I found a can of Spaghettio’s. Dumping them into a plastic green bowl, I popped them into the microwave. I unfolded the sofa into a bed and ate sitting cross-legged on the mattress, gazing out the window.

  Only a short time ago, I would’ve been thrilled to be fed and safe and free of pain. But somehow the satisfaction of having just that didn’t come as expected. With my recovery had come a restlessness, a compulsion to act. I’d had enough laying around.

  The yearning for vengeance was back.

  Chapter 40

  “Take it easy, Rhyan!” Caleb called from behind. We were cantering through a green field just outside the city walls. Though big and athletic-looking, Caleb’s black mount was just not as eager to go as Lucky.

  “He wants to run,” I called back. Lucky’s hooves beat the ground in a thundering rhythm. It was exhilarating and I had no desire to slow him.

  “My horse threw a shoe!” Caleb yelled.

  Reluctantly I sat back and tugged on the reins. Lucky’s furious pace eased. As he broke into a trot, I circled him around and saw Caleb dismounting to check his horse’s hoof.

  “He okay?” I asked as we drew up, Lucky still puffing.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I should probably take him back.”

  We’d only been outside for a couple of hours—I wasn’t ready to call it quits. Caleb saw my hesitation.

  “You go on. You’re clearly fine to ride on your own.”

  “That’s okay,” I sighed. “I probably shouldn’t work him too hard my first day back anyway.”

  Caleb opened one of the saddlebags and pulled out a hoof boot. Slipping it onto the horse, he quickly checked the balance and then remounted.

  “We’ll have to keep it to a walk,” he said.

  I nodded and clucked Lucky onward. Now that the world wasn’t racing by, I realized the stitches in my back were sore. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.

  “So where’d you get Lucky?” Caleb asked conversationally as we plodded back to the city.

  “I sort of stole him.”

  “Sort of?”

  “He was just hanging out in some pasture. His owners were gone, so I took him.”

  “I’m sure he’s glad you did. He’s doesn’t seem suited for the sedentary life.”

  “How did you get your horse?” I asked, gesturing to the black gelding.

  “Oh he’s not mine. I just borrowed him for today.”

  “Whose is he?”

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. There are dozens of horses in Springfield that no one has claimed. I just help take care of them.”

  I was impressed by how generous he was, spending all that time taking care of random horses. I wondered if I should help too—it might give me something to do.

  “I used to ride in rodeos, back before,” he went on. “On a buckskin named Rio. But, when the Vela came around, he spooked. I watched him from a window, galloping around like a nut in the field until—I actually saw this—he jumped the fence. Five feet high and he cleared it just like that. Never saw him again.”

  “He’s probably okay though,” I said. “I don’t think the Vela care much about horses.”

  Caleb shrugged, suddenly distant. Somehow I knew he was thinking about his family. I
was curious, of course, but didn’t want to intrude. We rode in silence for a time, only the sound of insects engaging our ears.

  The sun hit its peak we decided to stop for a meal. Caleb had packed apples and peanut butter sandwiches made with real bread. A family had taken it upon themselves to start a bakery and, based on the sandwich, they were good at it.

  “What’s been going on with Springfield? Did the Captain have a vice president or something who took over?” I asked over our small spread.

  Caleb shook his head.

  “A guy named Blake has been taking charge—he’s one of the people who agreed to let you out—but nothing’s been made official yet. I think some higher-ups from the city capital are supposed to be coming tomorrow. Maybe they’ll sort it out. Crazy how in the middle of all this there’s still politics.”

  “Do you think he’s better than the Captain?”

  “Blake? I don’t know, maybe. You really didn’t like the Captain, did you?”

  “No,” I said acidly, taking a final bite from my apple. Caleb gave me a curious look, but changed the subject.

  “So what’s your plan now? You came back from the mission so your safety level should go up. Maybe you won’t have to leave again.”

  I shrugged and tossed my apple core over to Lucky.

  “I dunno. What’s your plan?”

  “Just keep doing what I’m doing, I guess,” he answered. “Working at the stables and praying a resolution to all of this comes soon.”

  “You really think it’s not already over?”

  “You think it is?”

  “Well, yeah. If we were going to win, we would have already. You and I—we’re just the bits of popcorn left after the main event that someone has to clean up.”

  “You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that Rhyan?”

  Another time his accusation would have ruffled my feathers, but the truth was, he was right. I sighed.

  “I know. I just…. I’m lost. I don’t know what to feel. Glad to be alive, guilty because my family isn’t, glad that I can still fight, depressed because I have no other purpose—”

  “Hey,” Caleb interrupted. “You have other purpose. Every person still alive does.”