by Box Set
My heart stopped at his words. “No!”
Dexter didn’t respond, and before I could speak again, he pulled his skinny leg back and kicked Gallatin’s torso with all his might.
“Stop!” I screamed, sucking in my breath and trying to think. These little demons had to be stopped.
Dexter landed another kick in Gallatin’s stomach, and I heard a strange groan come from Gallatin’s throat.
“Stop NOW!” I screamed again, my voice breaking. My fingers clutched the damp leaves as I tried to pull myself forward. “Jackson wants him!”
At that, Russell’s little brother paused and looked at me with narrow eyes.
“I was sent here to find him,” I lied, my voice hoarse. “He knows where our parents are.”
Dexter stepped slowly back and leaned down to look at me, studying my face. “You’re lying. You’re just trying to save it. I saw y’all in the creek kissing.”
His lips curled down like I was a cockroach discovered in the sugar jar. I trembled all over as a scheme unfolded in my head. It had to work.
“You are an idiot!” I spat, filling my voice with all the revulsion I felt. “Don’t you know about lady spies? Mata Hari?”
“No.”
“She helped catch a bunch of communists by seducing them, you dummy.”
His eyes flamed, and again he looked like he might hit me. Instead he grabbed the top of my hair and jerked my head back hard. I yelped in pain.
“I don’t know if you’re lying.”
“Mata Hari’s real. And I’m helping Jackson. He’s my boyfriend, remember?”
“He’s with Star.”
“She’s his mistress.” I blew air out of my lips, doing my best to be condescending. “You don’t know anything.”
Dexter let go of my hair and turned around, pacing on his skinny legs. I could tell he was conflicted. He’d seen enough television to almost believe what I was saying. I held my breath at the thought I might save us.
“I don’t believe Jackson’d wanna be with you if you had sex with that thing. What if he got some alien disease?”
“Fine!” I said. “Do what you want. See how Jackson likes it if you hurt me. Or kill our one chance of getting information.”
His lips pressed together, and he exhaled hard through his nose. My breath came so fast and tight, I thought I might faint. Finally, he turned away quickly.
“Carry her back and stay there. I’ll tie this thing up here and wait for Jackson to come.”
My eyes almost closed involuntarily as my shoulders relaxed. I thought I might cry, but I held my expression neutral. Dexter dropped to a knee on the ground in front of me and leaned into my face.
“If you’re lying to me, bitch,” he growled in a low voice. “I’ll kick all your teeth out myself.”
Fear tickled at the back of my spine. I knew he meant it, but my lips tightened and I returned his evil glare with all the anger I felt. The other boy grabbed my arm and jerked me up again. He pulled my arm over his shoulder and caught me around the waist, and while he still seemed repulsed by having to touch me, we hobbled up the two hills and back to camp.
Once we made it through the break in the fence, he took me into the cabin that had been Cato’s. It was completely deserted, and the boy let me go in front of her old bed. Then he went to sit in a tan metal folding chair on the other side of the room.
I lowered myself slowly onto the bare mattress. I still only wore my tank top and shorts, which were dry now, but they were soiled by me falling in the leaves and with Gallatin’s blood. I lightly touched the inky stain, blinking back tears. I couldn’t show how much I cared or how worried I was, but I could barely take not knowing what was happening to him or if he was okay.
My injury would make it hard to escape this kid, but I had to think of something to get away, to get help. Still, who would help me? Everyone seemed to share the same mind now, and it was screaming for alien blood.
I studied the guy’s face. It was a blank mask of indifference, but his blue eyes stayed fixed on me. He sat in the metal chair wearing only brown cargo shorts, and his hands were folded across his lap.
“What’s your name?” I said.
He only stared.
The heat was stifling, and a bead of sweat rolled from the hair above my ear down the side of my neck. A ceiling fan was in this room, but I doubted we still had electricity now that the aliens had left. I was so tired and miserable, I hadn’t even thought about it last night.
“Can I open the window?”
He still didn’t move. He only blinked.
I stood on one foot and reached out for the window ledge then I hopped over and pushed the bottom out, propping it with the metal lever. It produced no change in the thick, hot air, but as I stood looking down, I wondered if I could overpower him. He had his back to the wall, and I didn’t see any objects I could throw at him. I’d have to throw hard and have perfect aim if I intended to knock him out, so I discarded that plan. My aim wasn’t so great.
I went and eased myself down to the mattress again. Despair crawled up my arms and legs as I sat, so I turned, lying on my side facing the wall. My hip ached so badly, I couldn’t relax. But in my mind, all I could see was Gallatin lying on the blanket, Dexter kicking him twice in the stomach, the sick groan that came from him. I clutched my arms around my waist as my body tensed with fear and hopelessness.
Tears pooled in my eyes and then rolled down my nose, dropping onto the fabric. I tried to think of a prayer. The night before I’d prayed—after I’d realized Jackson had been lying to me. I’d gotten Gallatin back, but now it seemed he’d be ripped away from me again. Violently and mercilessly. I couldn’t think the thought, and I tried to shake it away.
Just then my eyes fell on a clock sitting on the nightstand. It was an old, brass wind-up number that had run down and still claimed it was seven o’clock. As I studied it, I saw it was about the size of my hand, and it was thick. And probably heavy.
My arms were clutched around my waist, but I turned slowly toward the boy in the chair. He still sat in the same spot, but his eyes were closed. I couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or what, so I slowly reached over my head for the clock. Sure enough, when I picked it up, my hand dropped with the weight. I quickly brought it to my chest, hiding it with my body. I didn’t know if I should try to throw it or run at him and hit him with it as hard as I could. I’d never been good at baseball, so I decided on the second option, hoping the element of surprise would help.
I breathed in and out several times focusing my mind on Gallatin and rescuing him. It was going to hurt like hell running on my injured hip, and I’d never tried to hurt someone on purpose with my bare hands. But this was no time to be a coward.
Slowly, trying not to make a sound, I edged my body onto my back and then to the side of the bed. My feet silently touched the concrete floor, and I gripped the clock tightly in my hand. The winder on the back protruded a quarter-inch, and I figured I could use that to my advantage.
Barely able to breathe, and with my body shaking with adrenaline, I sat up by degrees not making a noise. The boy’s eyes were still closed. Finally I was in a sitting position. I breathed through my mouth now. My heart pounded so loud, I was sure he’d hear it. Leaning forward, I put all my weight on the balls of my feet bracing for the pain in my hip to spasm through my side. Inside my head, I began to count.
One…
Two…
THREE!
I sprang forward ignoring the throbbing in my leg, but just as I left it, the bed let out a loud, metallic SCREECH!
The boy’s eyes shot open and then flew wide. I screamed as I brought the clock down at his head with all my body weight. He threw up his forearm and blocked it, and my balance shifted to the side as his fist shot up, making contact with my cheek. White light flashed in my eyes, and everything went black.
* * *
The next time my eyes opened, I was alone. I was still in the cabin, but it was dark and my guard w
as gone.
My heart flew to my throat, and I sat up on the bare mattress, wincing in pain. My cheek hurt now too, but it didn’t matter. All I could think about was Gallatin, and outside I heard the distant sound of male voices through the still-open window. I prayed it wasn’t too late.
I grabbed the side of the bed and slowly stood, automatically bending my left knee as the pain shot through it. The idea that my hip was possibly fractured this time flittered through my head as I hobbled to the door. Grasping the knob, I opened it just a crack. No one was visible, so I pulled it open and helped myself slip outside into the darkness behind the cabins. I wondered for a moment why they’d leave me here unbound with the door unlocked. I guessed small, injured, and alone, I wasn’t a threat to them. I wasn’t convinced they were wrong, but I had to try. Physical disadvantage had never stopped me before.
Leaning against the wall, I slid down to the corner nearest Gallatin’s cabin and carefully peered around it. In the distance, I could see a bonfire lit in the big, open yard. The shadows of boys walking past it and the orange-lit faces of those across from it were just visible. I knew the darkness concealed me here, but I wished I had dark clothing.
I slipped across to the next cabin, hoping against hope, but when I reached for the door handle, it moved away from me. The door wasn’t caught, and the cabin was dark and empty. I hopped back and looked up the hill. The dining hall was lit with weak, yellow lights I assumed were lanterns. Jackson had to be here, and he had to talk to me.
I gritted my teeth and held the walls for support, making my way up the hill toward the boys. As I reached the edge of the yard, I decided to go to the dining hall first. I didn’t want to run into the boy I’d tried to hit or worse, Dexter, before I found Jackson. And everything in me strained to believe Gallatin would be there. That it wouldn’t be too late.
The boys around the bonfire were quiet tonight. They appeared to be waiting. I kept to the shadows, and when I reached the edge of our former sleeping quarters, I disappeared around the corner and out of sight. The dining hall was just a few yards away, but I had to wait and assess the situation. The same as the night I’d escaped, the night I’d found Jackson, I crept to the wall and carefully lowered myself to my good knee below the screens to listen.
“What are we going to do with her?” A voice that was vaguely familiar spoke. I figured it must be the drifter Clinton.
D’Lo answered. “She’s just mixed up. Post-traumatic stress. We’ll let her sleep it off.”
“When Jackson gets back, what then?”
“Don’t know. Folks are turning up, but it’s like they’ve all got amnesia.”
“And the camps are all empty.”
I shook my head and gingerly eased myself to a crawl, quietly making my way to the back of the hall. I had to know what had happened to Gallatin. When I reached the door, I remembered it wouldn’t squeak. I grabbed the knob and helped myself stand then I pulled it open and slipped through the back entrance.
The kitchen area was dark, so I tiptoe-limped around to the large metal refrigerator. D’Lo and his companion seemed to be the only ones inside the hall, which was lit by four electric lanterns in a circle on one of the long tables. The two were waiting, but I couldn’t tell what for. With my heart in my throat, I stepped out, hoping if anything, D’Lo was still on my side. When he saw me, he quickly stood.
“What you doing up here, Pren?”
My body shook so hard, I could barely speak. “What’s going on, Dee?”
“That’s what we’re waiting to see.” He started toward me. “Looks like they’ve all left, and everybody’s going home.”
“Where’s…” my voice cracked, and I stopped, cleared my throat, and tried again. “Where is he?”
“Jackson? He’s digging up the guns.”
I frowned. “No. Where’s Gallatin?”
Dee’s lips went tight and he looked disappointed. I felt like I might pass out, and I placed my palms flat on the table in front of me just in case as I asked again.
“Where is he, Dee?”
“In the old dormitory.”
I was moving before I thought to ask if he was alive. I couldn’t accept the idea that he might be otherwise. I felt no pain, and my eyes didn’t even focus as I pushed through the back door again and hobbled to our old sleeping quarters.
“Wait!” I heard D’Lo coming after me, but I didn’t stop.
I was almost to the dorm entrance when he caught me around the waist and covered my mouth with his hand, pulling me back around the corner again. I fought and tried to get away, but every move sent blinding pain down my leg and forced tears from my eyes.
“Let me go!” My voice was muffled against his fingers, my body twisted in his arms.
“You can’t go in there,” he hissed in my ear, gripping me tighter, pulling me further into the shadows.
Finally I stopped struggling. He loosened his hold and then lowered his hand from my mouth. I breathed hard, and my voice was thick when I spoke. “Is he alive?”
He hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
In that instant, it was a good thing my giant friend’s arm was still at my waist. My knees gave out, and I almost collapsed.
“Stand up,” Dee said, shaking me. “He’s hurt, but I managed to keep them off him. For now.”
I reached my arms up in the direction of his neck. “Thank you,” I whimpered.
“You gotta be cool. I’m trying to keep everybody calm til we can figure out what’s going on here.”
“He came back for me,” I sniffed. “They flew away, but he sneaked off the ship to stay with me.”
D’Lo nodded. “I figured that.”
“He’s not the enemy, Dee. He’s my friend.” My voice choked as his big arms held me in a hug.
“He’s more than that.”
I couldn’t answer.
D’Lo kept talking. “Jackson wants a prize. A symbol to show we won.”
I tensed at his words. “What does that mean?”
“He wants to do a firing squad. Like Napoleon or something. In the morning at dawn, all the boys get to shoot him.”
“Oh my god—Why?”
“Respect. All these kids are looking to him as their leader. Now we’ve caught one, he’s got to act.”
“They didn’t catch him. They hit him from behind. They’re little cowards.”
D’Lo made a grunting noise, and for a moment we were silent. Then I spoke in a low voice. “We’ve got to save him.”
“Just wait—”
“No.” I started for the door, but D’Lo held me.
“Russell’s in there. And Dexter. And that little punk’s after you.”
I bit my lip remembering Dexter’s promise to me. “I guess he knows I lied about being a spy.”
“He knows.”
At that moment, the doors inside burst open and the noise of loud voices filled the dorm. Jackson was back, and we listened to heavy metal objects clanging together as they fell on the bed.
“It was just like Dee said. Long wooden boxes buried at the bottom of the hill.”
“This one’s mine,” Dexter said, and I heard the sliding clatch! of a rifle chamber opening and closing.
Russell laughed. “Easy, little man. Everybody’s getting one.”
“Then I’m gonna shoot her.”
“You’re doing no such thing,” Jackson said in a reproving voice, as if Dexter were simply a misbehaving schoolboy. “Now go round up the others. I’ll announce what we’re gonna do.”
The sound of a rifle hitting the stack again was followed by the familiar squeak of the dormitory doors. Dexter was headed up to the bonfire, and Jackson and Russell were left alone.
“What if they come back for him,” Russell said in a low voice.
“We’re armed now,” Jackson replied. “It’d be a real war then.”
“What about the others?”
“How’s Yolanda? She doing okay?”
“She’s okay,” Russ
ell said. “But it’s creepy. She doesn’t remember any of it.”
They were quiet and I could hear the shuffling sound of them walking around the space.
“Has he come around yet?” Jackson asked.
“A little, but Dexter hit him again.”
My lips tightened, and I gripped D’Lo’s arm.
“We’ll pump him for information tonight, see if he’ll tell us anything.”
“Then tomorrow?”
“Come on,” Jackson said, and I heard the doors squeak open and closed twice as he and Russell left. They were headed to the bonfire, and D’Lo released me.
“I gotta get up there,” he said. “You stay right here til I get back. I’ll try to sneak off before they’re done. Don’t do anything stupid.”
I nodded, knowing the minute he was gone, I was getting inside to try and rescue Gallatin.
Chapter 27
I waited until the sounds coming from the yard were in full swing. They weren’t as manic as the night I left Jackson’s camp, most likely because they weren’t taking drugs this time. Still, I could hear the thirst for blood in their responsive cheers to Jackson’s announcements. As fast as I could, I slipped around the side of the dorm and toward the door, but just as I got there, my blood ran cold.
Cleve stood outside the dining hall staring at me, alive and well. He didn’t move or speak, and neither did I. I couldn’t even think of what to say—at this point nothing surprised me anymore. It didn’t matter; there wasn’t time. My hand was frozen on the handle leading into the large hall, and I waited to see if he would make a move in my direction. He only stood staring at me, and after two heartbeats, I pulled the door open and rushed inside.
I leaned against the wall breathing hard. It was dim in our former sleeping quarters. The only light was a single electric lantern hanging in the center of the room, and I made my way through the bunks as my eyes adjusted to it, holding onto the bed frames for support. I leaned forward and looked, trying to see where they’d put him. Desperation tightened my shoulders until I finally spotted him in the far back, in Braxton’s old bunk.
