by Kody Boye
A series of lights flashed outside in a multitude of colors before the infamous trumpeting sound began to play.
“They found someone,” Cindy said.
“Yeah,” Asha added. “But was it us?”
I closed my eyes and prayed for safety.
A gargantuan whooshing noise, like a gust of air breaking through the sound barrier, passed over the house—briefly disrupting the interior of the home and knocking a few loosely-hanging pictures off the walls. Shortly thereafter, the gunfire began, followed by screams in the distance.
“They found them,” Asha whispered. “The men who shot at us.”
The sound of automatic and single-shot weapons shattered the silence of the torrential rain. It sent shivers down my spine, causing me to retreat further back from the couch and to draw my weapon into my arms. Though they’d try their best to fight back, nothing the bandits could throw at the aliens would be able to compare to the laser beams the ships could fire upon them.
And They did—judging by the sound of the explosion that rocked the world and briefly lit the sky with flame.
“Boiler,” Josh said. “It had to be.”
A second explosion followed, then a third, then a fourth. The fifth and final one was so close to the house that it blew the glass out the front windows and sent it cascading into the living room.
Somehow—either by the grace of God or sheer shock—no one cried out or screamed.
Instead, we simply hunkered down and waited.
The sound of the ships passing overhead—slowly, like warbling instruments from a long-lost world—was barely heard above the rain, and lasted only briefly before disappearing into the night.
“Sheesh,” Josh breathed. “That was close.”
“Hopefully all those explosions happened nowhere near the helicopter,” Dylan, our pilot, said as he drew closer toward the windows.
Sin caught his arm before he could move any closer. “Don’t,” he whispered.
“Why,” he started.
“Because They still might set down,” I said.
“I think it’s time we retreat into the master bedroom,” Sin said, clearing his throat as he turned to the group. “We don’t want anything peeking into the windows and finding out we’re here.”
Everyone agreed.
I dreamed of the ships that night after falling asleep.
They were making Their way through the torrential storm that inhabited the upper part of the atmosphere as They searched endlessly for the thing They so desperately wished to find. Unbeknownst to those of us in the simple house that had been damaged by the fifth and final explosion, They continued to search the area. Only briefly did Their lights fall upon the helicopter positioned in the center of the town’s major intersection, and though considered, was passed over as They continued east toward the city of Austin.
Find the girl, I heard a disembodied voice say. Find the girl.
The Coyotes in the fields beyond Stonewall lifted Their heads from Their dens and trudged out into the world. Having been shielded from the rain, They meandered clumsily through the downpour, trying desperately to find purchase in the muddy ground and wet grass beyond highway 290. It was obvious, from Their movements and the direction They were going, that They were headed toward the city, though whether They knew we were there or not I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that the moment the sign reading STONEWALL in bold white lettering appeared in my dream, I was awake, and scrambling into a sitting position.
“Bad dream?” Sin asked.
“No,” I breathed. “They’re coming.”
“What are?” Asha asked, her voice groggy and filled with sleep.
“The Coyotes.”
“How do you,” Josh started.
He trailed off—his mouth opening, then closing, as if the rumors were finally dawning upon him. He gripped his rifle and said, matter-of-factly, “How soon?”
“I don’t know. They may already be in the city.”
“We need to be as quiet as possible,” Captain Sin said, stepping away from the window and gesturing toward the mattress. “Someone help me flip this over.”
Josh and Cindy helped the captain flip the mattress and position it over the window. Once shrouded in darkness, the soldiers retreated back toward the wall and settled down beside me and Asha.
“Go back to sleep, if you can,” Sin said after a moment’s silence. “No one’s going to be talking, and until we know we’re safe for sure, we’re not going anywhere.”
I knew that to be true, but as I lay down and closed my eyes, I found that I couldn’t sleep. Rather, my thoughts wandered to the dream—to what I had seen; to what I had experienced; to what I had heard.
They were still looking for me.
But why?
What did They want with me? Did They want to abduct me? Experiment on me? Attempt to make contact with a race of people which, as far as I knew, They’d never attempted to speak with?
Was I, perhaps, a link?
The concept was terrifying. The idea that I could be right was outright nightmarish.
Was that my future, my fate, my destiny? To contact the one people who had done so much harm to us?
Unable to know, and not wanting to at that particular moment, I cuddled into the blankets and tried to ignore the impending sense of dread.
I couldn’t.
Just knowing the Coyotes were coming was enough to set me on edge.
Chapter 18
It felt like we waited hours for the Coyotes to arrive, or for daybreak to reach us before They could. Trapped within the only bedroom in the one-story house, I listened to the sound of the rain and tried, without success, to doze. Always, a slight sound awakened me—a breath, a snore, a jerk of someone’s body as they woke from a dream or nightmare.
By the time Captain Sin declared it sunrise, I was exhausted.
“Didn’t sleep, Berrios?” the captain asked.
“No,” I said, stretching my arms over my head. “I didn’t.”
Who could blame me, though? The night had been rough—had, without a doubt, been one of the worst for me both mentally and physically. Not only had my suspicions about my condition been confirmed, but I hadn’t slept at all. My body was weary, my mind threatening to collapse, my heart thundering in my chest any time I tried to breathe.
I was, without a doubt, a nervous wreck, and for anyone to think otherwise would’ve been madness.
Rather than question me further, Captain Sin set a hand on my shoulder, patted it a few times, then reached out to open the door. “Check to see if the coast is clear,” he said.
I lifted my gun to view our surroundings and stepped into the living room, nervous at the prospect that the Coyotes could’ve breached entry during the twilight hours of the morning. Those floorboards were thicker—more rigid, sturdier—and would’ve been able to withstand the weight the creatures would’ve imposed upon them. When I saw nothing out of the ordinary, however, and that the curtains were still in place, I cleared my throat and said, “We’re clear,” with confidence in my heart and soul.
Afterward, the rest of the troop filed out and packed the supplies we’d be returning to the hospital. While waiting for them to load the crates, I opened the front door and peered out, only to find the devastation that had been wrought overnight.
Thankfully the helicopter was intact. The buildings, however, were not.
Laid to waste by the laser beams and the explosions caused by them, the strip of businesses—which had once sat quaint and docile upon Stonewall’s main street—resembled nothing more than a scattered wasteland of debris.
“We’re lucky the helicopter wasn’t destroyed last night,” our pilot said, crossing his arms as he peered out at the carnage from behind me.
“I’m surprised it wasn’t,” I replied. “I mean… given everything that happened and all.”
“I imagine the bandits saw the helicopter, wanted to try and make away with it, and drew attention to themselves in the
process,” Sin said, hefting a crate into his arms. “Like Dylan said—we’re lucky we’ll be able to leave the easy way.”
“Should we risk staying?” Cindy asked. “I mean, given everything that’s happened?”
“It’s daylight. We should be fine.”
I wanted to stress that Josh had thought the same thing when he’d mentioned never seeing Harvesters flying in the rain, but I remained silent, keeping my mouth pursed tightly as to not show my fear or concern.
Instead, I stepped out of the house and led our group forward.
The smell of smoke and spilled gas filled the air as we relocated from the suburban street into the main part of town, clogging my nostrils and making my eyes weep hot tears. While Dylan hopped into the helicopter to tests its faculties, I trained my gun upon the horizon. I tried to find some trace—anything—that would alert me to what we might be dealing with.
Nothing appeared.
No men, no Coyotes, no Harvesters—absolutely nothing could be seen within the distance: proving that, at least for the time being, we were safe.
“Let’s raid a few more houses and get on out of here,” Sin said. “Once more—split up into groups, check to make sure the homes haven’t been breached, and if they have been, don’t go into them. We don’t need any more surprises before the day is up.”
Leaving Stonewall, while painful without Jason to accompany us, filled me with far more relief than I could’ve possibly imagined. The sky was clear, the clouds nonexistent, the ever-extending plain of blue beautiful in that it appeared untouched by any calamity, alien or not. I shifted in my seat to look out into the distance and found Asha’s hand falling atop mine.
“You okay?” I asked, lifting my head.
“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” she said, then drew her hand away. “I can only imagine how you’re feeling right now.”
“Lost. Confused. A bit hopeless.”
“This is about your dreams again, isn’t it?”
I looked at the people around me, studying their faces to see if they were listening or if they even cared. If they did, they didn’t show it—or at least were decent enough to not visibly pry into our conversation. I imagined it was almost impossible to hear us over the whirling rotor and the gust of wind, and for that reason I offered Asha a firm, resolute nod. It instantly sobered her expression and forced her lips into a frown.
“I’m convinced They want something from me.”
“Why?”
“I keep hearing the phrase find the girl in my dreams. If that doesn’t mean something… I don’t know.”
“Have you ever tried speaking back to Them?”
“In my dreams, you mean?”
“Yeah. Or your visions. Whatever they are.”
“I,” I said, then stopped, unsure how to respond. Even the idea of attempting to open communication was maddening, but to actually attempt it? That was on another level of insanity entirely, and for that reason I could only stare.
“Ana?” Asha asked. “Did you hear what I just asked?”
“I heard you,” I said. “I just… don’t know how to respond.”
“Well… it’s a yes or a no question.”
“No it isn’t, Asha.”
“Yes it—”
“If it means They’ll find me again—”
“They never even found you in the first place.”
But what about Fort Hope? Outside Fredericksburg? Along the county road or even in Stonewall? How could she, with an ounce of certainty, claim I had not been targeted every single bit of the way since I’d been bitten by that Coyote?
I couldn’t respond—wouldn’t argue with a girl who believed I wasn’t the cause of the destruction being wrought upon my friends and family. To think that I was putting myself and those I cared for in danger was enough to make me want to consider putting a gun to my head and pulling the trigger.
But it was just like she said:
In the end, I didn’t know. Wouldn’t know and couldn’t know until I attempted to reach out to Them.
In looking at her eyes—in seeing the pain, confusion, and turmoil within them—I couldn’t help but lean into her side.
At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to forget about everything.
So that’s what I did.
As we traveled back to Austin, I simply lay in her arms and tried my hardest not to think of what my future might hold.
The idea that I was the arbiter of the First Contact was utterly and undeniably terrifying.
We landed upon the roof of Burgundy Hospital’s parking garage later that afternoon and unloaded supplies shortly thereafter. Joined by several other volunteers, the work was quick and easy-going, with casual banter exchanged throughout and the spirits of the men high and mighty. Most seemed to have forgotten the potential near-death experience we had faced the night before, such was their demeanor. I, meanwhile, had only one thing on my mind.
“Sir,” I said, turning to face Captain Sin as thoughts on how I could further test my theory came to mind. “Permission to leave early and seek medical treatment, sir.”
“You’re asking for it?” the man asked, to which I responded with only a nod. “I… suppose so, Berrios. Is this about what happened last night. Your…” He leaned forward and whispered, “Vision?”
I nodded.
“We didn’t see any signs of Coyotes on our way back from Stonewall,” the man said, “but that doesn’t mean They weren’t around. We didn’t particularly check the area, and we did avoid the houses that appeared to be tampered with.”
“I just want to know if there’s anything the doctor can tell me,” I said.
“Understood. You’re dismissed, soldier.”
“Thank you.”
I bade Asha goodbye with a simple wave and strode through the parking garage, taking extra care to avoid obstacles. Once free of the garage, I stepped into the lobby; and once there, I relieved myself of my arms and armor before I walked toward the medical bay, where I hoped to find Taylor McKinney and the doctor who had requested my blood the day before.
“Hello?” I asked as I entered the bay, looking around to see if anyone was in the vicinity. “Is anyone here?”
When no one answered, I waited, hopeful that someone had heard me and was just finishing up whatever task they were working on. When no one came, though, and when I found it fruitless to wait any longer, I turned and passed through the side halls until I came to the room designated as mine.
Once inside, I collapsed upon the bed without bothering to remove my boots.
The soft mattress below my body was bliss, the cool temperatures sating to my fried nerves and frazzled conscience.
I would’ve fallen asleep then and there had a knock not sounded at the door and startled me from my thoughts.
I groaned, rolling over to face the would-be intruder, and found Commander Dubois standing outside my room.
“Commander?” I asked, sitting up in my bed.
She entered without being invited and closed the door behind her. “Ana Mia.”
“Ma’am,” I replied, swallowing. “What… what’s going on?”
“I believe your question would be better addressed by Doctor Kelly, whom you spoke with yesterday.”
Dubois leaned back, pulled on the handle, and held the door open as the doctor entered, shortly followed by Taylor McKinney, whose face held a grave semblance of unease if I’d ever seen one.
“Sir,” I said, immediately fixing my eyes on the doctor. “What did you find in my bloodwork?”
The doctor sighed and leaned forward. There was no clipboard, no paperwork in his hands, no indication to believe he had monumental news to tell me. But the way he looked into my eyes—the way his irises dilated in tune to the pale lighting flickering in through the curtains—led me to believe otherwise.
I steeled myself for life-changing news—for confirmation that I had been right all along.
It came in the form of but a few words:
>
“Your blood possesses strands of alien DNA.”
There it was—the shock, the climax, the big reveal, the plot twist in the ever-expanding drama of my life, revealed in but a moment. So shocked was I by the revelation that I could barely move, could hardly breathe, could not even speak. I merely stared, dumbfounded, as I looked at the man and tried to comprehend what he had just said.
“What does this,” I started, but stopped before I could finish.
“It means,” Doctor Kelly said, “that the human body is capable of reacting to, replicating, and accepting the DNA of the extraterrestrials now inhabiting our atmosphere.”
“How is that possible?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say. Maybe we are what they call a panspermic species—a fraction of DNA that crossed space and time until it landed on Earth and began to flourish. Maybe They are us, in structure, but far more advanced. Or maybe… maybe,” the doctor said, “Their plans are far more advanced than we could’ve possibly believed.”
“My visions—”
“Are likely the result of the telepathic connection we’ve theorized They are capable of using.”
“And the fact that They’re trying to find me—”
“Find you?” Dubois asked. “What do you—”
“You are capable of understanding Their language,” the doctor said, cutting the commander off before she could finish. “Incredible.”
“But what does that mean, doctor? Are we in danger?”
“There’s no way to know,” the doctor replied. “Not unless…”
The three turned their eyes upon me the moment the doctor trailed off.
“What?” I asked, startled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I think what he means to say,” the nurse named Taylor McKinney began.
“Is that he wants you to speak with Them,” the commander finished.
No greater bombshell could have been dropped upon my person at that moment, no greater threat hovering at the back of my neck. I felt, in that instance, as though I was dangling over a pool of hungry piranha, and slowly being lowered piece by little piece.
