The Praegressus Project: Part One

by Aaron Hodges

  “The government?” the Chead’s head bent to the side, “It is humanity… that made us suffer… It is humanity… that must pay with its blood.”

  Chris blinked, and behind them Richard snorted. “All of humanity?” Richard asked, his voice rich with sarcasm. He stepped up beside them, suddenly bold. “There’s eight of you. The government has thousands of soldiers. And there are millions of people in the Western Allied States.”

  The Chead shifted, turning to face the taller boy. “Their soldiers are nothing,” it growled. “The Chead are legion.”

  Though Chris could make no sense of Hecate’s words, he felt himself grow cold. Ice trickled down his back as he looked at the unyielding figure of the Chead, imagining an army of such creatures. Then he shook his head and dismissed the image. The facility could not have contained an army. Hecate was clearly deranged, driven mad by the long years of imprisonment.

  Beside him, Richard laughed. Before any of them could react, Hecate sprang forward and caught him by the shirt. Growling, the Chead hauled Richard into the air. Richard swore as his feet left the ground, and then lashed out with a fist. The blow caught the Chead square in the face and sent it staggering backwards.

  Richard stumbled as Hecate released him, his wings flaring out to steady him.

  “Some legion,” Richard spat. He looked around the room, defiant, a wild anger in his eyes. “Maybe you’re not a match for us, after all.”

  Hecate straightened, but made no move towards Richard. Instead, it turned back to Chris. “Consider my offer,” the Chead grated out the words, “are you with us… or with them?”

  Closing his eyes, Chris shook his head. Pity swelled inside him, a sadness for the hate and torment that had shaped these creatures. Despite their brutality, despite the slaughter and destruction that followed their awakening, he sensed a depth to the Chead. There was more to them than the feral creatures he had seen on the television.

  They were more human than anyone realised.

  Yet Hecate and these others, born within the cold walls of the facility, had never been given the chance to discover that humanity. The vile cruelty of Doctor Halt had shaped them, moulded them with hate and fear, allowing nothing else to grow.

  “I’m sorry, Hecate,” he addressed the Chead, “we cannot help you. Doctor Halt and the ones who supported him are our enemy. Not humanity. After all, we are human ourselves.”

  Now it was the Chead’s turn to laugh. “So you think… but will they?”

  CHAPTER 13

  Liz let out a long breath as the last Chead slipped through the doorway. Heart still pounding, she moved to the window and watched as eight shadows slid from the house into the surrounding trees. For a long time she stood watching the woods, waiting to see if they would return. But the only movement came from the wiry branches swaying in the morning breeze, and finally she turned back to the others.

  Richard and Jasmine still stood in the centre of the room, their faces pale. The girl clung to Jasmine’s leg, the occasional tremor of her wings belaying her fear. As Liz moved away from the window, Chris stepped back in from the hallway and looked at her.

  “They’re gone?”

  She nodded, and he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. Holding him tight, Liz struggled to relax, to cast aside her fear. But now, with the heat of the moment gone, it clung to her, spreading until her whole body was trembling. Her breath rattled in her chest as she closed her eyes, and saw again the boy’s grey eyes staring down at her.

  After a few moments, the terror began to pass, and she loosened her grip on Chris. Their eyes met as they parted, and she nodded at Chris’s unspoken question.

  “I’m okay,” she looked at the others. “What about you, Richard, Jasmine?”

  “I’m fine,” Richard shook his head, “they’re not so terrifying in person.”

  Taking a breath, Jasmine stepped away from him, taking the girl with her. A hurt look spread across Richard’s face and his shoulders slumped, but Liz ignored him. Jasmine would get over what had happened in the forest eventually. They all would.

  Beside her, Chris chuckled softly. “They’re terrifying enough for me,” shaking his head, his eyes settled on the young girl still clutching at Jasmine’s trousers. He crossed the room and knelt beside her. “Hey there.”

  The girl whimpered and shrank back as Chris offered his hand. Her wings rose to hide her face, the grey feathers shivering with her fear. Chris let out a long sigh and looked up at them, eyebrows raised.

  “Any ideas?” he asked. “This is getting a little ridiculous.”

  Liz rolled her eyes and shook her head in amusement. She looked across at Jasmine. “How about you boys go out back and pick some fruit. Give us girls some time to talk.”

  Richard and Chris shared an awkward look, before doing what she said. Liz watched them go, and then turned to face Jasmine. Jasmine stared straight back at her, her eyes hard and arms folded defensively.

  Letting out a long sigh, Liz attempted a smile. Ignoring Jasmine’s frosty glare, she strode across and lowered herself to the wooden floor. Crossing her legs, she nodded to Jasmine, indicating she should do the same. The taller girl hesitated, then with a snort she joined Liz on the ground. Sitting cross-legged, she watched with bemusement as the younger girl crawled into her lap and hid her face beneath her wings again.

  Liz smiled, and even the corner of Jasmine’s lips tugged upwards. Scooting forward on her bottom, Liz reached out a hand and rested it gently on the girl’s wings. A shudder went through them, her terror obvious. Silently, Liz began to stroke the girl’s feathers, waiting for the trembling to stop.

  When the girl finally seemed to have calmed, Liz spoke in her friendliest voice. “Hello again,” she paused, struggling to find the words she needed. “I thought it was about time us girls had some alone time. Richard and Chris have gone to find us some breakfast, and those creatures aren’t coming back. You’re safe, you can talk to us.”

  Somewhat to her surprise, the girl’s wings retracted, revealing her pale, tear-streaked face. She blinked up at Liz, then turned to look around the room. Liz withdrew her hand and sat up straight, waiting to see what the girl would do. The mismatched blue and green eyes swept the room once, then again, before she was apparently satisfied they were alone. With a quick burst of movement, she scrambled from Jasmine’s lap and sat beside them, crossing her legs in a mimic of the older girls.

  Jasmine and Liz shared a glance, before turning back to the girl.

  “My name is Liz, and this is Jasmine,” Liz spoke again, then, “You can speak?”

  The girl nodded silently, her eyes flicking between the two of them.

  “Can you tell us your name?” Jasmine asked now, leaning in, a friendly smile on her lips.

  The girl swallowed, looked around the room again, then nodded. “My name is… Mira,” she whispered.

  Grinning at her success, Liz carefully held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mira.”

  Mira stared at her hand, her eyes wide, as though unsure what to do with it. After a minute Liz gave up and retrieved her hand. Ignoring the awkward moment, she pressed on. “Where do you come from, Mira?”

  The girl blinked. “Come… from?” she looked from Liz to Jasmine, “I don’t know…”

  Mira’s lips quivered and tears gathered in her eyes. Jasmine let out an impatient sigh. Seeing her frustration, Liz spoke quickly, before the other girl drove Mira back into her shell.

  “It’s okay, Mira. Maybe we can help you,” she moved forward and put an arm around the young girl.

  The girl shuddered, and with a violent shove pushed Liz away from her. Liz gasped at the girl’s strength. She fell backwards onto the wooden floor as the girl leapt to her feet, her eyes flashing with grief and anger.

  “It’s not okay!” Mira screeched, the words tumbling from her now, “He’s gone! They took me away and now he’s gone and there’s no one left to look after him!”

  Jasmine and Liz stared u
p at the girl. Her wings had spread with the angry words, and her shoulders shook with every harsh intake of breath. Slowly, Liz drew herself to her feet. Jasmine rose to stand beside her. She glimpsed movement in the hallway, but raised her hand, signalling for the boys to stay out of it.

  “Mira,” she said softly. “Who’s gone? Who took you away?”

  “Artemis,” Mira’s voice trembled. “Artemis is gone. That man in the white coat took me away from him. He left Artemis there to die!”

  “What man?” Jasmine asked.

  “Who is Artemis?” Liz questioned at the same time.

  “The man you call Halt,” Mira answered Jasmine’s question. A shudder went through Mira as she spoke the name, and her feathers stood on end.

  “And Artemis?” Liz repeated.

  “Artemis… he’s… he’s my father.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “Your father? Why would your father look like a Chead?” Liz muttered, half to herself. How could the girl mistaken the Chead, Hecate, for her father?

  But her words had driven Mira back inside her shell. Silently cursing herself, Liz stepped towards her, but now Mira retreated across the room. Reaching the corner, she crumped to the ground and curled into a ball on the wooden floor. Harsh sobs tore from her throat as the grey wings rose to cover her again.

  To Liz’s surprise, Jasmine moved across and crouched beside Mira. Wrapping the girl in her arms, Jasmine glared up at Liz. “Well done,” she hissed. “And I thought I was the blunt one.”

  Guilt welled in Liz’s chest but as she stepped towards them, a low growl came from the girl. Liz froze, her heart inexplicably beginning to race. She took a quick step back again. She had felt the girl’s potency just a moment earlier, and despite her own strength, one look at the girl’s mismatched eyes was enough for her to back away.

  Movement came from the hallway, and the boys stepped quietly into the room. They had found an old potato sack somewhere and filled it with fruit from the trees behind the house. Her stomach growled at the sight.

  “You did well,” Chris said softly as he joined them, offering her an apple. He grinned. “Well, better than me anyway.”

  Liz took the apple with a smile and pulled him to her. Her fear fell away as his arms went around her, and for a second she closed her eyes, letting the worries of the world recede. But even in Chris’s strong embrace, she could not quite banish her dread.

  She knew it was not just the girl, but everything that had happened since their escape. The soldiers, the helicopter, the Chead. It felt as though things were spinning out of control, like they were racing towards some awful fate, over which they had no control.

  When they finally separated, Liz kissed Chris lightly on the cheek before facing the room. Mira seemed to have recovered somewhat, but her lips remained tightly shut, and no amount of prodding would get her talking again.

  Moving to the window, Liz looked out through the dust streaked glass. Her stomach clenched as she realised that with the boys back inside, there was no one keeping watch. She cursed under her breath as she stared out the window, her heart suddenly racing.

  Outside, the cluster of buildings remained unchanged, untouched by movement. The midday sun beat down across the iron roofs, harsh and unforgiving despite the cold winds blowing down from the mountains. The relentless heat was a grim reality of life on the prairies. Her parents and their farmhands had worked the early mornings and late evenings to avoid the scorching sun, taking siesta through from midday and into the afternoon. But even with those precautions, heatstroke and dehydration was common.

  Liz stood for a long time at the window, her eyes searching the shadows. Her stomach twisted with unease, refusing to be quelled by the silence outside. It swirled and shrank, and a wave of nausea rose in her throat. Prickles of fear spread down her spine as she finally turned back to the others.

  “I think we should get out of here,” she announced, surprising even herself.

  The others stared back. Richard frowned and Jasmine snorted. Even Mira took a moment to look up. Only Chris seemed to take her seriously.

  “What?” he asked.

  Crossing the room, Liz looked around the little group, her urgency growing. “I think we should get out of here, right now.”

  Jasmine pulled herself to her feet, one hand still resting in Mira’s grey hair. “It’s got to be a hundred and forty outside,” she argued. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to keep my skin intact.”

  “What’s wrong, Liz?” Chris ignored the others, his eyes fixed on hers.

  Liz shook her head. “I’m not sure. It just doesn’t feel right, staying here. Not after the Chead…”

  “They were pretty quick to take off, Liz,” Richard replied. “I don’t think they’re coming back.”

  “I know,” Liz murmured. She bit her lip. “But I still don’t like it. If they could find us so easily, how long before the soldiers do the same. And what if the Chead were followed here?”

  As she spoke the words, the sense of urgency exploded in her chest, like sparks catching in leaf litter. In her mind, she saw soldiers creeping through the forests around the house, rifles held at the ready. Suppressing a shriek, she reached out and grabbed Chris by the wrist.

  “They could have led Halt’s people right to us,” she said.

  Chris stared back, his hazel eyes dark in the shadows of the room. Then he was nodding, spinning to face the others, the words tumbling from his mouth. “Liz is right,” he said, already moving. “If they’re tracking the Chead, Hecate might have led them right to our doorstep.”

  Sweeping up the heavy jacket he had claimed as his own, Chris looked around the room. Liz’s sense of urgency was spreading now, as the others realised the truth of her words. Richard moved into the kitchen and collected the potato sack of fruit, while Jasmine swept up the bundle of jackets they had piled in the corner. She tossed one to Richard as he emerged from the kitchen, before offering one to Liz.

  Then they were moving towards the doorway. Richard took the lead, the potato sack slung over one shoulder and jacket bundled under one arm. Jasmine came after him, leading Mira by the hand, while Liz and Chris took the rear.

  Liz paused in the doorway, turning to cast a final glance back over the living room. She swallowed as grief rose in her throat. Even empty, without furniture or family, this was still her home. Her two years on the run had not changed that. This was where she had taken her first steps, where her father had taught her to tie a lasso. It was where she had been loved, where she had been safe. It was the last connection to her past, to her mother and father and friends.

  She turned away as tears blurred her vision. Something tore inside her as she moved down the corridor after the others, as though something precious and fragile had shattered. She held her breath, struggling to hold back the tears, and rushed out the front door into the courtyard.

  “Where do we go?” Richard asked as she emerged into the sunlight.

  Liz swallowed. “Into the forest,” she croaked. “Up the mountain to the edge of the treeline. We can make better time moving at the edge of trees, but we’ll still be under cover.”

  Richard nodded and started off into the woods. Together, they worked their way into the scrub and started up the mountain, using the low-lying trees as cover. Thick branches twisted overhead, pressing in on them and making movement difficult. But they would shield them from the air, if there was anyone watching.

  Liz had made the climb many times as a child, but she was older now, no longer small enough to slip easily between the dense branches. Small, sharp stones covered the steep slope, making her grateful for the boots they had scavenged from her house. She grasped at tree trunks as her feet slipped on the loose stones, clambering upwards, fear driving her on.

  Within minutes they were all panting, even their newfound strength and endurance struggling with the steep mountainside. The unstable slope required time and patience, but their frantic rush to clear the ranch left no room for ca
ution. So despite their exhaustion, they pressed on, ever upwards through the dense trees.

  It took them an hour to reach the treeline.

  They were just in time.

  Gasping for breath, Liz lowered herself to the rocky scree as the others collapsed around her. The mountain stretched up another hundred feet to the summit, but from here the slopes were barren of life. She looked back at the trees, past the scraggly branches reaching out towards them, searching the valley below for a last glimpse of her home.

  For a second, everything was quiet. Below, the brown fields stretched out from the mountain, the tiny specks of cows and sheep moving slowly over the flat surface, while the grey lines of empty rivers wound their way across the plains. Amidst the trees below, she glimpsed the dull gleam of a metal roof, but otherwise the ranch was hidden from view.

  Then movement on the horizon drew her gaze. An ugly black speck marred the endless blue sky, far off in the distance. But as she watched it grew, and with it came a far-off rumbling. In seconds it had doubled, then tripled in size, a menacing presence racing towards their little mountain sanctuary.

  Sunlight glinted off steel as the jetfighter banked, its speed slowing as two dark shapes disconnected from its underbelly. They shot across the sky, leaving long white streaks of cloud behind them. The shriek of the jet engine rose to a roar, its angry voice echoing from the slopes around them, all but deafening.

  Liz rose quickly to her feet, but there was no time to run, to take flight. Only to stare as death raced towards them. Beside her, Jasmine screamed and tripped on the loose gravel. Richard caught her before she fell, and she clung to him, their eyes fixed on the approaching missiles, their animosity forgotten.

  The ground shook as the missiles struck, slamming into the slope far beneath them. A scream built in Liz’s throat as she watched a blossom of flame rise from the side of the mountain. She caught a glimpse of an iron roof flung high into the air, of wooden boards disintegrating, then Chris was there. He pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms, drawing her away from the sight. But even turned away she could still see the image in her mind, see the flames consuming everything she had ever known. She could feel the heat on her back, even from where they stood high above, and hear the wild howls of the flames.