Dark Future

by KC Klein

  “Quinn?” I rushed the cell. “Are you all right?” I glanced around her prison. She wasn’t as bad off as compared to the rest of us. Her cell had the same hoad mey quality as ConRad’s room, but with rusty iron bars across the front.

  “Quinn, really, are you okay?” A nervous tingling started in my belly at her silence. Maybe she was suffering from shock. She continued to sit and stare off into nothing. I bent lower, trying to catch her line of sight. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I stifled a scream. Her eyes were filled with black, churning like a restless sea. As long as I lived, I’d never get used to eyes that had the look of death.

  Quinn blinked and her eyes snapped back to baby blue. “You’re The One.”

  I knelt before her, desperate to understand. “The One what? I’m not special, Quinn.”

  “But you are.” She spoke with such conviction, it was hard to disbelieve.

  I’d come here for answers. I had to be willing to listen. “One what? I don’t even know what that means. Wouldn’t I have some sense of purpose?”

  Quinn shrugged. My feelings to her were inconsequential. “I’m not sure what you’d feel, but it doesn’t change what you are.”

  My forehead was flush against the bars, my hands wrapped around the rusting metal. “Which is what, Quinn? Give me some damn answers so I can figure this out and preferably not get all of us killed in the process.”

  Quinn sighed and shrugged again in that irritating and unassuming manner everyone here used. Was nothing here worth getting excited about? I gritted my teeth as she turned her body to face the wall, dismissing me with the dignity of royalty.

  This was getting me nowhere. If anything, I’d learn patience while I was here. “Quinn, I’m sorry. Just please explain. Can you please start from the beginning? Pretend I’m an idiot and you have to lay out the whole thing to a simpleton. ”

  Quinn tilted her head and flashed me a half smile. “Fine, that won’t be hard at all.”

  Sarcasm seemed to be taking root.

  “Good,” I said. If my tone was a bit drier than before, she didn’t comment.

  “You have to promise to just listen. There’s not enough time for pessimism and distrustful arguments. You’re going to have to take a lot of this on faith.”

  Faith? I’d rather flaunt my cellulite in a string bikini. But hadn’t my BBD said I needed to be more trusting?

  Quinn scooted closer to the bars. With a quick glance toward the long stone steps, she lowered her voice. “I’m a goddess, a powerful one. I’ve been hiding my abilities for some time now. I never wanted the goddess lifestyle, to be all alone, no relationships, no human contact. It was more of a prison sentence than a gift.”

  I nodded. The life of a goddess seemed cruel.

  “But if you have powers, you don’t have a choice. The value placed on goddesses is too high. Of course, each goddess’s gift is different. Some see in the dark. Some can sense the aliens. Others read minds.”

  I nodded again, shuddering at the memory.

  “But me . . . my gift is powerful and multifaceted. I can read minds, foretell events, and read or see energy. My gift was inconsistent in the beginning, but that changed when I met Zimmion. My gift became more controllable, more powerful.”

  If what she was saying was true, then she was the most powerful goddess to be sure. Way too essential to be put to death. I saw hope for Quinn. I just had to inform ConRad.

  “I could never tell anyone this. The rules we have are too ingrained. No one ever questions them. That is, until you. My people here wouldn’t have believed me, and Zimmion would have been put to death. So we’ve kept this a secret.”

  Quinn pushed her hair behind her ears and massaged her neck. Exhaustion pulled heavily on her. “It wasn’t Zimmion’s fault, not really. It was just I could read his thoughts so clearly, and soon he could read mine also. We were too connected not to be together. I believe our lives are vitally intertwined. If one of us dies, the other will also. That’s why I could never risk going out into the field. If I died, it would be like holding a gun to Zimmion’s head and pulling the trigger. I couldn’t do it, regardless of the Elders’ rules.”

  “Quinn, I had no idea.” I relaxed my grip on the bars and sat cross-legged in front of her. Certain pieces came together. The way Zimm and Quinn could communicate without words. Her desperate plea for me to save his life. Her willingness to court death by kissing him in public.

  “But now what? What’s the point, Quinn?” Nausea rose up. There was a small hope the Elders could be persuaded to pardon Quinn, but there wasn’t a chance in hell Zimm wouldells t survive.

  “Kris, we are caught in a time warp. These events keep happening again and again. You send yourself here from the past to either change something or finish something. And before you ask, no, I don’t know the answer to what needs to change. I don’t have memories of any previous cycles, but I have dreams . . . or impressions, maybe?” Quinn shrugged. “All I know is that it feels like we have been here before. As you can see, I’m aging at a rapid rate, deteriorating before my very eyes. I can only guess my body is the one gauge that time isn’t standing still. I’m scared, Kris, scared that we have been caught here for years. And all I can do is pray that this time you’ll learn what you need to do in order to break the cycle. I can’t even fathom a guess of what will happen once my life span gets to the end.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. Things that my future-self had told me, things that I’d dismissed as ramblings of a crazy person, rushed back. What did my BBD know that I didn’t? She had talked about a prophesy, saving ConRad, and evil men. Then I shook my head. No. I was her. All the knowledge that I needed was inside me. A wisp of anticipation swirled in my gut, because now I knew. Everything she had said was true. No more self-denial. I swallowed hard. “What’s The Prophesy, Quinn?”

  A smile broke over her features, as if she had waited for this moment. “The Prophesy was first spoken during the rebel movement over thirty years ago. The Prophesy says that she will come from the past and be protected from the wild beasts. With the wisdom of old she will save the lives of men and drag the doings of the evil ones into the light. And they will hate her and seek to kill her. But a mighty warrior will be called upon to save her, and he will become an outlaw to her rescue. And she will incite a small nation to rebellion. A final sign will be given to all of you, so that you may know she is The One. A miraculous birth will be bestowed upon her. This sign will be hers and hers alone, so all may know she is The Chosen One. By means of her body, she will save the world.”

  Shock zipped along my spine. For some reason, I never thought The Prophesy was about me. “And you think I’m that woman?

  “You have fulfilled the requirements. Who else has come through time? Who else has been saved by the wild beasts or aliens, and used the older knowledge of medicine to save soldiers here? It could only be you.”

  Even I couldn’t deny that I had traveled through time. And by any standards, that was pretty unusual. But my resolution of putting away self-denial was fast losing its appeal, since the last part didn’t sound too promising. “Um, my mind got tripped up on ‘means of my body,’ smacks of sacrificial death, don’t you think?”

  Quinn broke eye contact to finger her bootlaces. “Ah . . . I don’t know. Over the years I’ve had visions concerning The Prophesy and some detaiandAdols have become clearer . . . some not. All I really know for sure is that you are The One.”

  “So you don’t really know if I die on this alien-infested planet or not?” I got to my knees and resisted the urge to reach through the bars and shake her.

  “Kris, I don’t have all the answers. My gift doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why the hell not? It’s not like you’ve been shy about manipulating events to fit your agenda.”

  “Manipulating is a strong word. I prefer leading.” Quinn raised her hands in a take-it-easy gesture. “Calm down, I don’t think you are going to die anytime soon. I haven’t seen that. Since you
’ve been here, my visions have been more frequent and detailed. So I’m sure we’re on the right path. I can’t explain it, but you’re going to have to take some things on faith.”

  “God, I don’t believe any of this, not really.” I rubbed my hands over my face. I had a sudden headache. But I did believe, kinda—the sense of déjà vu I had since coming here. The way I had known ConRad when I’d gazed into his eyes, the feeling that I had come home.

  “You are so stubborn.” Quinn’s “princess of the castle” tone was back. “But what you believe is irrelevant. There are things at work here that are greater than you. You need to accept that.”

  I studied Quinn. The crinkles around her eyes and grooves at the corners of her mouth hadn’t been there when I first met her. The truth was staring at me in the face. But she was wrong. I was no leader.

  “One more thing.” Quinn stood and began to pace her eight-by-eight cave cell. “When I see visions of the future, they’re only in black and white, foggy, without much definition. But since I’ve been down here, I keep glimpsing the same images over and over again. I can smell the gunpowder, the burn of flesh, but I just don’t know what it means.”

  Another vision of death and destruction, how original. I stood and stretched my lower back. God, I was tired. The emotional upheaval of the day had drained me, leaving me numb. “Tell me about it. Maybe I can help. Or at least by putting the images into words can help make things more concrete.”

  “I see terror and death. Man and alien. And . . . you in the middle—you’re the key.” In a flash, Quinn threaded her hands through the bars and grabbed my tank top, pulling my face a mere inch from hers. “It’s now . . . it is happening now! You have to go up and help ConRad.”

  ConRad was the last man on earth I wanted to help. “Why would I help that bas—”

  “Stop! No questions. His life is in danger.”

  The wild look in her eye broke my mind’s fog. Could this be true? Did ConRad need me? Was this why I’d come here? I backed away, turned, and started up to the main base.

  “Kris!” Quinn shouted. I glanced over my shoulder to see Quinn staring into nothing, eyes clouded over with inky black. “You’ll need a grenade. Don’t forget the grenade,” she whispered.

  I started to run.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The echo of gunfire ricocheted off the metal doors that lined the passageway. The ceiling rumbled, pouring dirt and pebbles down on me. I threw my arms up in cover and ran toward the command center. Screams of men in pain broke through the low roar of battle. Then an ear-splitting shriek—high in pitch, deafening in volume. Not human. Not machine. Terror struck my body like lightning. I turned and threw myself to the ground, clamped my hands over ears, and squeezed my eyes shut. My head shook in disbelief. Only one thing could make that sound. I’ve heard it before. Would never forget. Alien.

  There were aliens in the compound. A sob broke as I turned back and crawled over rocks and fallen debris. Run. Hide. Live.

  But ConRad needed me.

  I swung my head back and forth. No.

  “NOOOOO!” My scream echoed down the deserted tunnel.

  I glanced behind me. The monsters were close. With just a turn of one corner, I’d be at the command center. A spasm shot through my bowels.

  On hands and knees I hung my head in shame. I can’t. I can’t.

  I heard Quinn’s voice. I pray you’ll learn what you need to do this time.

  I closed my eyes and looked within myself. Past the thick tar-like fear, deep beyond my churning intestines and my blood drunk on adrenaline was a small pocket of light. I dug deep and tentatively grasped the glowing ball. Heat. Strength. The ice of fear thawed from my muscles.

  Turning, I belly-crawled forward.

  Hard gray scaled bodies towering ten feet tall were attached to elongated oval heads. Wide front-facing eyes shined like tiny black mirrors. A double-hinged jaw, racked with razor-sharp teeth opened to half a grown man’s length. Viscous white slimed their bodies and dripped from stubby arms and claw-like fingers. Mucus mixing with blood whipped about as they moved at inhumanly fast speeds, coating the dead and walls alike.

  The outside tunnel had been breached. The men who’d been guarding the entrance lay below in pieces. One by one, the aliens slithered out through the narrow entrance, crawled over bodies, and attacked.

  I cowered, hovering on the side lines. The scene was like nothing I’d ever known. Machine guns fired and sprayed the room, hitting some targets, bouncing off the majority. Aliens swooped, dismembered, and beheaded soldiers in seconds. Bodies slid apart on their razor claws like tissue paper.

  A man, a few feet away from me, was unloading his machine gun at the enemy. Quicker than an inhaled breath, a claw reached out. His gun dropped with a clatter by my feet, blood sprayed across my face.

  The warmth along my cheek set me to motion. I dropped to the floor and using a headless body as cover—don’t think about it—I scanned the carnage for ConRad. The majority of soldiers left were defending the two double doors opposite the tunnel. I remembered ConRad telling me what lay beyond the heavily guarded doors. The Earth Portal.

  I knew what this battle meant. If the aliens got to the portal, all human life would be lost. This was survival. It was them or us. My choice: Die here or die later. There was no in between.

  Sweat rolled into my eyes. I swiped at my face, grabbed the gun, and crawled to a nearby overturned metal table. A small band of soldiers were somewhat successfully protecting the red double doors to the portal. Peering over the barrier, I saw ConRad in the forefront barking orders and firing guns. He was so far away. My heart sank. We were separated by a dozen feet, but it might as well have been oceans. Piled between us were the dead, both human and monster, and, of course, live killing-efficientlin="0 aliens.

  A grenade was thrown, exploded, and killed off two of the closest aliens. Cockroach bits flew. I swallowed burning bile back down my throat. Grenade! Quinn had said I needed one. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but having an explosive was as good of a place to start as any.

  “ConRad!” My voice was hoarse, I tried again and succeeded. His head snapped around and his eyes caught mine. A stricken look flashed across his face, and then it was gone. He whipped his head forward, refocusing on trying to stay alive.

  “I need a grenade,” I screamed to be heard over the noise. An emphatic shake of his head was my answer.

  I ducked back behind my metal barrier, lying as close to the ground as possible. The air was thick with smoke, dust, and the hot smell of gunfire. I tried, right? I asked and did not receive. The Prophesy must be wrong, or at least Quinn’s most recent vision. I’d done my best, tried to do what I was supposed to do, but the continuation of the human race was not up to me. My eyes were already plotting my escape route as a grenade flew over and hit the opposite wall, bounced, and rolled slowly, as if hand-delivered, to my feet.

  A second of paralysis, then a bloodcurdling scream as I covered my head. This was it. Death by being blown to bits. A few stilted breaths later and I found the courage to peek through my fingers. The little doodad with a small ring-sized circle was still wedged in the top. I’d never handled a grenade, much less seen one in real life, but I’d watched plenty of movies, and they were educational, right? Linda Hamilton threw dozens of grenades and never blew herself up. Besides the mechanics seemed simple enough. Clamp down the lever, remove circle-thingy with teeth, then throw and release toward target. Under no circumstances were the steps to be reversed or, God forbid, done out of order. Of that, I was quite certain.

  My sweaty fingers shook and wrapped themselves around the cold grenade. Don’t think. If I gave myself a second of hesitation, I’d chicken out. I jumped over the table and ran in the opposite direction of the battle—toward the entrance tunnel itself.

  Time slowed. The compromised entrance seemed a mile away, when in reality it was only a few feet. Aliens poured out of the tunnel like rats leaving a sinking ship. Crouching l
ow, I used the body carnage as cover. I grasped the gritty metal pin with my teeth and spat it on the ground.

  For a split second my courage faltered. I needed to throw the grenade as far into the tunnel as possible, ideally pitching it over their heads so it wouldn’t bounce back and blow me up instead. My plan was to execute a triple front flip, stay suspended in mid-air, while simultaneously imuittlehitting my mark. This was possible, I knew, since I’d seen every Matrix movie at least twice. But maybe only high-paying Hollywood actresses could pull that one off. So I decided to do what I did best—run like hell.

  I ran and leapt with all my strength toward the hole in the mountain. There was a loll in the incoming alien bodies. I threw the grenade into thick blackness. I crashed to the ground and slid to a stop when my head thudded against the wall. A loud explosion, flames burst out of the side of the mountain. Then my vision narrowed to black.

  I woke to find three ConRad’s staring down from above. My head hurt too badly to try and merge them together, besides something was wrong with his face. He was all pasty white and grim looking. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was scared. “What happened?”

  “You’re awake?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to be.” I groaned. “My head. Did I hit it?”

  “That and every other body part. How do you feel?”

  “Like I hit my head and every other body part.” I raised myself up on one elbow and glanced around. I’d somehow been carried from the command center and was laying in one of the many adjoining pathways. ConRad was kneeling besides me, his hands clenched on his thighs.