by Kody Boye
In staring at them—and in realizing the declaration of truth on Dubois’ face—I knew that there was no way I could get out of it.
“This is our one chance to know what it is They truly want,” the commander said. “This is our chance to change the tide of this war.”
“Or to get me killed,” I said. “Why should we barter with these… these monsters… when all They’ve done is kill and abduct our people?”
“It’s called a treaty, young lady.”
“Those people killed my family! How can you expect me to ever barter with Them with a clear conscience?”
“Just because one person killed your family does not mean They are all bad.”
“They abducted my father, killed my mother, slaughtered my sister.” I shook my head. “No. You can’t make me do this.”
“You have to, Ana. You’re the only shot we have.”
“Let someone else get bitten by a Coyote,” I said, standing. “Now are you going to leave, or am I going to have to?”
“We’ll get what we want one way or another,” Dubois said. “You’ve already promised your service in exchange for your friend. Going back on your deal could have… consequences.”
“Wait,” I said, starting toward the door as Dubois, McKinney, and Doctor Kelly began to leave the room. The two medical professionals left first, and I was almost to the door when it closed behind Dubois. The sound of a lock clicking into place answered whatever question I may have had next. “Don’t you dare hurt Asha! Don’t you dare!”
“We’ll get what we want one way or another, Ana.” The woman peered through the glass to look at me. “Decide before nightfall; otherwise your friend might not live to see another day.”
I slammed my fist into the door and screamed as they walked away.
“Leave her alone!” I cried, slamming my fist against the door again and again. “You leave her alone! Leave her alone! Leave—”
The sound of commotion up the hall cut me off.
“Asha?” I called, slamming my hand on the door once more. “Asha!”
“Ana!” Asha screamed. “Ana! Help me!”
“ASHA! ASHA!”
I tried desperately to unlock the door—to free myself from the prison I knew I would not be able to break away from—and found myself unable to do so. I slammed my weight upon the handle, pulled with all my might, attempted to break the thin slate of glass separating me and the outside world with the single chair in the room.
When nothing worked, I slumped to the floor and sobbed.
There was nothing I could do.
I had no choice.
If I wanted Asha to live, I’d have to do as they asked; and in doing so, betray everything I stood for.
Chapter 19
There was nothing I could do but wait.
The time spent sitting there—alone, hopeless, and feeling I had no other choice in the matter—was spent considering my situation. Though there was little I could do to get out of the room, I constantly considered the implications at hand and tried to formulate a plan to get out, get Asha, and run. Always, though, I ran into the problem of not knowing where she was. In a hospital this size, she could be anywhere; and with armed guards around every corner, it would be nearly impossible for me to get anywhere without being shot.
Which meant having to disarm someone.
Which meant having to kill in cold blood.
Which meant potentially having to mow down innocent lives to save yet one more person I felt I had become personally responsible for.
You’re the one who brought her here, my consciousness was quick to remind me. You’re the reason you’re both at this hospital.
We could’ve lived off the land, like Jason had said—just the three of us at that farmhouse in Fredericksburg. Or we could’ve built ourselves a shelter in the wilderness. At least then we’d all be safe. At least then we’d all be alive—or, at least, not in danger of being killed.
What would they do to Asha if I refused? Kill her outright? Make me watch as they tortured her to sway my decision? What, exactly, would happen if I did not do what it was they asked?
The more I thought about it—the more I dismantled each scenario I could come up with—there was little I could do but accept whatever insane scheme they had planned.
“If they even have one planned,” I mumbled under my breath. For all I knew they simply wanted the promise that I would attempt it: nothing more, nothing less.
Still—the idea of bartering with the aliens, even to placate the people who had taken Asha and me hostage, chilled me to the bone. They’d killed my mother, slaughtered my sister, destroyed the only home I’d known for the previous six years. I was taking my convictions and throwing them out the window, all for one girl.
Why?
Was it because I cared about her? Thought her a friend? And loved her for that reason?
Love.
What a fickle word for an emotion so strong.
I wrapped my arms around my knees and turned my attention to the nearby window—which, with its curtains parted, allowed me an ample view of the ghostly city and the nothingness that existed within it. Buildings stood silent, streets empty, stoplights off, cars vacant. I saw a cat run across the street pursued by several dogs and realized that this world, as beautiful as it happened to be, was no longer the place it once was.
If I wanted to survive—and if I wanted Asha to survive as a result—I would have to do things I felt strongly against.
Hours passed by with my thoughts tormenting me, with my radical decision finalized and the resulting anxiety strumming throughout my ribcage. I wanted nothing more than to sleep—to dispel the notion that I needed to wait and think and contemplate all that time on the matters at hand—but I couldn’t. The sun was my timer, its motion the wick in which my life would soon change. Once it hit the horizon, it would detonate, and with it everything I knew and believed in would be tossed out the window.
For that reason, I decided to wait.
And wait I did—all the way until the sun fell toward the horizon and a knock came at the door, startling me from the trance I’d fallen into while studying the city streets.
“Come in,” I said, as if I’d lost control of my person.
The door opened, then closed, heavy boots clicking on the tile below them. “Ana Mia,” the familiar yet cruel and strong voice of Commander Dubois said. “Have you made your decision?”
“I have no choice,” I replied, swiveling to face her in the stool I had seated myself upon near the window. “I’ll do what you want as long as you promise that Asha will be safe.”
“Your friend will remain unharmed so long as you promise to keep your end of the bargain.”
I nodded, stood, and straightened my posture as best as I could in the presence of the woman who owned my body and soul. “Tell me,” I said. “How do you plan on making this work?”
“That is something you will have to speak to Doctor Kelly about,” the commander said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and watching me with stone-cold, determined eyes. “He would be the better adviser on the matter.”
“Are you bringing him here?” I asked.
As if on cue, the doctor appeared, tailed shortly by Taylor McKinney. The younger man appeared skeptical and even a bit sad at the predicament I had fallen into. He refused to look at me, no matter how much I looked at him, and when our eyes did cross his gaze instantly shied away. His attention deferred to the doctor and the commander who stood at his side.
“Ana Mia,” Doctor Kelly said. “How are you tonight?”
“I’ve been better,” I replied, trying my hardest not to let my true emotions show.
“I see.” The man paused, considered the individuals in the room, then seated himself in the plastic chair before focusing his attention directly on me. “Are you ready to hear what it is we have planned for you tonight?”
“It’s not like I have any choice.”
At this, the doctor did not resp
ond. He did, however, turn his attention on Dubois, who merely shrugged and gave a simple nod. “As you have already been made aware,” he began, “we believe you hold an innate connection to the extraterrestrial creatures due to the integration of alien DNA within your own. You are able to see what They see, hear what They hear, and understand Them to a degree. For that reason, we are going to send you into the field in an effort to establish what would be the first true contact with the creatures.”
“I don’t even know if I can speak to Them,” I replied.
“But we know you can hear Them,” Commander Dubois said. “Which is a start.”
“Telepathy is, simply put: the transmission of thoughts,” the doctor continued. “We believe you need simply think what you want Them to hear within a certain radius of one another and They will be able to understand what you wish to communicate. You said you understood what They were saying, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And it was spoken in English?”
“I could at least understand it as English,” I replied.
“Good,” the doctor said. “What we propose is this: we will send you into the field—unarmed, but with a detachment of soldiers to protect you from a distance—and you will attempt to open a bridge of communication with the creatures”
“How will I do that?” I asked.
“You will be given a flare gun,” Dubois said, “with three charges, and will fire each shot at five-minute intervals. This should give the Coyotes, and any Harvester ships within the area, the chance to locate you within an ample amount of time.”
“How will you see me if it’s dark, though?” I asked. “And what if the Harvesters consider the soldiers’ presence a threat?”
“The Harvesters have sent the Coyotes to look for you, Miss Berrios. They are not going to risk endangering or alienating you by harming those who are supposed to protect you.”
“They should understand your need for caution,” Doctor Kelly said. “Especially now that They know you have witnessed what They are capable of firsthand.”
I looked down at my arm, then thought of Xiomara and Mama and how simply they’d been torn apart. How I wished I could have run—to tear the sidearm from Dubois’ belt and shoot her, and Kelly, and McKinney, and make a run for it—but I knew that would never happen. I’d be gunned down instantly. And Asha… who knew what they’d do to her.
With a nod, I straightened my posture, looked directly into Dubois’ eyes, and asked, “When are we doing this?”
“Tonight,” she said. “As soon as the sun goes down and the moon comes out.”
I turned my head to look at the nearby window and found that dusk was nearly upon us.
When I turned back to look at Dubois, several soldiers—including Josh, Cindy and Sin—were standing outside, already armed and prepared for the night’s excursion.
“Are you ready, Miss Berrios?” Commander Dubois asked.
All I could do was nod.
They outfitted me in the brightest orange clothing available and slid a vest with a multitude of LED lights over my shoulders. That, Dubois explained, was to make me as visible as possible while out in the field. Though I desperately wanted to correct her and say it was only making me a greater target, I could understand the logic she held when she explained it would allow not only the Coyotes to see me, but the men and women who would be protecting me as well.
“Think of it as an insurance policy,” Dubois said as she clipped an earpiece along my earlobe. “They see you, we see you, everything’s kosher. Understand?”
I nodded. “What about my gun?”
“You won’t be given one. We want to make you appear as nonthreatening as possible.”
“Besides,” Sin said, slamming a cartridge into his semi-automatic. “We’ll have more than enough firepower to cover you.”
How the captain felt about this new development I couldn’t be sure. His expression—much like Henshaw’s had been—was devoid of emotion, though the subtle expression in his eyes made me think he was not as comfortable with it as he let on. There was something about the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he looked from me, to Dubois, and back again—a sense of guilt-stricken understanding in his eyes. It made me think that, regardless of his orders, he was still on my side—and would likely help me should I reach out and ask.
Not wanting to think about it, but most certainly not wanting to dwell on where Asha was or what state she could be in, I nodded and stepped out of the armory, flanked by the heavily-armed men and women who would be escorting me.
As we turned toward the doors, Dubois stopped me by setting a hand on her shoulder. She said, in a very strict tone, “Don’t even think about running away.”
“I’m not,” I said, swallowing, grimacing as she tightened her hold on my shoulder and dug her fingernails into my skin.
“Your friend will be the one to suffer if you do.”
I nodded, knowing the threat was true, and pushed forward into the lukewarm night.
“So,” I said, turning my attention toward Captain Sin. “Where are we supposed to go?”
“You mean where are you supposed to go,” he corrected. He reached down and withdrew the flare gun from his side. “You will be wandering the streets, while we will be stationed along the rooftops while we follow your progress.”
“And you think They’ll find me? Just like that?”
“They’re watching the hospital, Ana Mia. They know we’re here.”
The way he said it—coupled with the fact that I was lit up like a Christmas tree—sent shivers down my spine.
“Be prepared to leave once you see our flare leave the rooftops,” Captain Sin said as he and the other soldiers headed toward the parking garage. “Once you see it light up the sky, start walking. It’ll draw the attention you need.”
With that said, I waited for them to reach their prospective locations and tried my hardest not to panic.
Minutes passed by—slowly, agonizingly, like hours drilled into my head with a torture device from the medieval ages.
When finally I heard the shot, followed by the light steaming through the sky, I turned and strode down the street—knowing, without a doubt, that kind of exposure would not take long to be noticed.
The streets, though empty, were filled with a malevolence I could’ve never anticipated. Having never walked in a city at night, everything appeared ghostly. The buildings were titans, the lampposts wraiths, the lingering stoplights resembling fanged monstrosities lit only by the passing light of the overhead moon. Several times, cloud cover forced me into complete darkness, making me fear not only for my life, but for the possibility of being rescued were I to get ambushed.
Come on, I thought, trying my best to project it away from my body and out into the cosmos of my nearby surroundings.
Still, nothing responded. Not even the wind was fit to give me an answer as it curled about my body and sent shivers down my spine.
I lifted my head to see if I could find the men on the nearby roofs.
When nothing but darkness greeted me, I wrapped my arms around myself and came to a pause in the middle of the street.
Flare gun held in one hand, I briefly considered lifting it and firing, but stopped. I narrowed my eyes to look down the street.
They appeared—one by one, little by little, Their eyes illuminating the dark scheme of night like fog lights directed toward the sea. I heard Them laughing, then, as They considered my presence, the distinct notion that I was being laughed at more than clear upon my consciousness.
I lifted the flare gun and fired it once.
The arc of red light went soaring through the air.
“Berrios,” Sin said. “You weren’t supposed to fire that shot.”
“I know,” I replied, steeling myself for whatever reprimand was to come.
A feeling of something swimming beneath my skull entered my head and slid its tendrils around the outer edges of my brain.
Found the girl, I
heard a voice said. Found the girl.
“Come to me,” I said, then thought it just as clearly, pushing the action out of my mind and toward the consciousness of the Coyote closest to me. It felt like a bead of light trained upon an invisible sector of my brain.
The creature quickened its pace, then bolted into a run.
“Don’t move, Berrios,” Sin said. “Tasha’s got you covered.”
I didn’t dare move at that moment, but steeled myself for its impending presence as it continued to run, its dagger-like claws aimed toward the ground in a way that reminded me of the night my mother had been gutted—of how, in but a moment, she’d been taken from me, and the world, and everyone and thing in it.
I reached for the gun that was not at my side and grimaced as I once again realized I was completely defenseless.
I mean no harm, I thought as it continued to draw closer to me. Please do not hurt me. Please do not—
The creature—who was little more than ten feet away by that point—ground to a halt.
In its eyes, I saw nothing but light—the glowing consciousness of a creature who did not completely comprehend the magnitude of what it was doing.
Found the girl, I heard a voice say.
I lifted the flare gun into the air and fired.
The approaching Coyotes drew back, but realized I was not firing at Them and did not charge.
The one standing in front of me grinned, its mouth parting to reveal two rows of ghastly and razor-sharp teeth.
Where is your leader? I asked, mentally rather than physically. I wish to speak with Them.
Here, the creature said.
A trumpeting noise filled the air and a series of lights appeared upon the distant horizon. A beam of light—blue in color but soft like a glowing nightlight—cut through the darkness until it fell directly upon me.
The windows rumbled.
The ground shook.
The spherical Harvester ship began to descend as its light continued to hover upon me.
I looked up and into its depths—into the white nirvana that was its seemingly-molten core—and stared.
