Alarum (Walking Shadows Book 1)

by Talis Jones

  “Do you feel that?” I ask in hushed tones.

  “Electric fence,” he nods. “The kind that could fry a dinosaur.”

  “What—”

  We duck down as a pair of soldiers robed in white march into view striding impossibly close to the fence. I squint at their suits but can’t make anything out. Stupid effing eyes, I grumble in my head. “How’re they walking so close?” I whisper instead, my thumb spinning the metal ring wrapped around my finger nervously.

  He glances at me briefly as if he’d already forgotten my recurring tragedy. “It looks like they have special suits and helmets that protect them from it.”

  “Is there a gate?”

  Riker shakes his head. “I can’t see one. If there is then it’s far from here, but the Grounder’s navigator told us we need to be just on the other side of here.”

  “So now what?” I sigh. I wish I could be helpful but the only suggestion I have is silly.

  “I guess we just hurry before those guards disappear and ask them,” he shrugs.

  My mouth drops open. “Wow, I mean I wasn’t going to actually say that idea out loud but good on you.”

  “Shut up,” he huffs. “So you don’t have a better plan?”

  “Nope, not really, no.”

  “Then let’s go.” He yanks my hand with his and guides me down the small slope of grass before breaking into a run. Riker ahead and me following close behind.

  There probably is a better plan out there, too bad we couldn’t think of it.

  We slow up before we get too close to the soldiers so as not to spook them but they heard us coming already. Riker’s telling them something about us being refugees seeking citizenship in the R.A. pointing out that I’m badly injured and need help. Or something like that. I’m not really listening, I’m too focused on breathing through the throbbing pains rippling from my bruised ribs.

  Whether it’s Riker’s pleas or my genuine performance that convinces them I don’t care. I care that suddenly one of the guards reaches out with some small metallic device that cuts a hole in the electric waves big enough for two. I care that the other guard was twitching his fingers funny, his gaze fixed on something in his mask, and a sleek vehicle arrives before us. I care as Riker lifts me in his arms and settles me on his lap as he climbs in the back.

  I’m milking it a bit but my moans only seem to urge the guards faster.

  Riker bends down to brush the hair out of my eyes but his lips are beside my ear and I smile secretly as he whispers, “And the award for best actress goes to…”

  We spend the ride staring out the tinted windows and with every passing mile I feel Riker’s body stiffen in unease. Riker helps me sit up so I can squish my face against the window like a child arriving at the fair for the first time. Although I can’t see more than fuzzy images whizzing by it’s enough to make me nervous as well.

  Glass buildings too tall to see the top of dine with the clouds. Unmanned vehicles zoom past with the confidence of a gazelle. Robotic humanoids saunter down the sidewalks, no hair, eyes like camera lenses, but bodies like people. Little flying drones flit above everyone’s heads dropping down just to deliver a smoothie, a package, a note from a friend written on paper instead of pinged through their eye-screens.

  I’m not making this stuff up. The guard riding with us in the back keeps jabbering on and on about his world. He seems genuinely excited for us to experience it for ourselves but all I can think is how can so much be bordered by so little? While these people laugh and dance with every advancement graced by the future, on the other side of the fence are a people starved, enslaved by their brothers, a decimated population living in towns of skeletons and ghosts. How can we be neighbors? Neighbors reach out but these people hoarded.

  I want to hate them but I’m stopped by a thought. What if they don’t know? The government must know and they I can hate freely. But the people who live here? Even so close to the border they might not know. They might not be allowed to know. Maybe while the Pacific folk are imprisoned by concrete, these people are imprisoned by comfort. I still want to hate them, but there’s no time for that. No use, no purpose, no time to hate. But I tuck a little bit of the hurt away to wrestle with later.

  The vehicle glides to a stop so smooth I don’t even notice until the guard is sliding open the door and Riker’s hauling me out. We left the bright colors and exciting lights around the bend and have arrived at what I’d guess is a medical bay. I’m placed in a wheelchair and amazement raises my brows as it moves on its own accord. I only just gather my senses in time to snatch Riker’s hand and give the guard a glare so cold it’s foreign to this land. He shuts his mouth and swallows his protest.

  We’re shut in a room. A white room off of a white hall in a white building. The hospital gleams a glossy opaque behemoth. The lobby bustled with people but we have solitude in this small space. The door slides open soundlessly and my hand crushes Riker’s as a tall slender woman robed in a white doctor’s coat steps inside.

  “I’m Doctor Theta,” she smiles in that friendly way all doctors greet new patients as if gauging the level of rabid attitude they’ll have to face but hoping for the best. I smile back and mine says I’ll be nice if you don’t cross me.

  Turning towards Riker she holds out a tablet for him to take. He taps the screen hesitantly and it instantly glows to life.

  “I’ll need you to fill out those forms for me,” she explains. “I’m not authorized to treat non-citizens until after they’ve officially enrolled in the citizenship program.”

  Riker’s eyes are wide and his jaw is tight as he reads through the endless scroll of questions shoved before him. “This will take hours,” he argues.

  “Yes, well, only the first page is required to begin her treatment,” she smiles.

  He nods grudgingly and begins tapping away on the tablet filling in our personal details. Tap tap tap. Names, birth dates, height, weight, hair color, eye color, skin color, known allergies, on and on and on. Tap tap tap. I let him do it. He knows just about everything about me but he asks politely anyway waiting for my answers before entering them into the system. When he’s finished entering his own information he hands the tablet back to the doctor.

  I feel strange knowing that certain details of my existence will stay forever and ever in some filing cabinet up in cyberspace.

  “We’ll be running some tests that will confirm or alter the information you’ve provided but it’s required to have a preliminary estimate provided by the applicants.” She smiles to us each in turn then after glancing back down to the tablet she fixes Riker with a polite calm. “Now Riker, if you could please return to the waiting room I will attend to your wife immediately.” She hesitates on the word wife as if it’s little more than a charming if archaic concept.

  “No,” I bite. “He’s going to stay right here.” Shade said to insist, that these doctors aren’t the type who'll fight. Riker and I can’t be separated.

  Discomfort pinches her soft features. “It’s really not protocol,” she begins but the challenge in my stare cuts her off. “Are you sure you wouldn’t feel more comfortable having him wait in another room? Surely you’d appreciate a bit of privacy. You wouldn’t want him seeing the, ah, unfortunate state of your body.” She leans in to block Riker from her next words. “I can schedule a grooming session after we finish with your medical treatment if you'd like.”

  “I need him to stay,” I tell her firmly, not at all liking the shallow implications of her words. “And there’s nothing here he hasn’t seen before.”

  “If you're quite sure...” she hesitates.

  “If he wanted someone waxed and flawless he'd have chosen a Barbie doll to keep in a glass cage. Instead he chose a coyote. Fangs, fur, and all.” Riker snickers in the corner.

  The last of her persistence dissolves with a strained sigh. “Very well.”

  Riker gives me a hand and I pull myself up from the wheelchair. Stripped naked then swathed in a light medical gow
n a bed slides out of the far wall and I’m laid upon it. Riker folds my clothes carefully stacking them in the chair while the doctor pokes and prods my body gently.

  “I need you to lie very still for me, okay?” The doctor eyes me like I’m some fussy child.

  “Okay,” I promise.

  She slides open a panel in the wall and reveals a series of inlaid screens. Her hands fly over its surface typing in commands, selecting options, and all the while I lie as still as a desert rock anchored in sand. My breath quickens as a transparent glass dome emerges from the side of the bed and begins to stretch over me like a coffin lid.

  “Just breathe,” the doctor comforts me. “This won’t hurt.”

  The dome seals shut with a tiny hiss and my breathing refuses to slow as a gas begins to fill the chamber. In a gentle puff my gown turns to mist. My eyes find Riker and I focus on his scared face as…as my brain…thoughts…wait…they slow…heavy…wait…wait…

  A calloused finger rubs soothing circles along the inside of my arm. Darkness clings to me like goo but I sharpen my mind to that singular sensation until bit by bit my body reawakens.

  “Wake up,” a voice whispers softly. “Wake up to me.”

  As the lead leaks from my bones I shift. My eyes open slowly and I find myself blinking up into a harsh white light. I twist my neck slightly and find Riker staring back at me, worry and relief fresh on his face.

  “What happened,” I mutter groggily.

  “They healed you,” he smiled cautiously.

  “Hmm?” I manage to sit up and look around. I’m in the same room as before except there’s no glass dome trapping me to the strange medical bed anymore. I look down and see that I’ve been dressed in another gown. And I see…

  I see the bruises from my fights gone like whispers smoothed away in the wind.

  I see the scars from my life as a casualty of war gone like a nightmare whisked away by a loving embrace.

  I see the little wrinkles in my nails. I see the hairs covering my arms and legs.

  I see the secret glint of gold that lurks within Riker’s deep brown eyes.

  I swivel my head this way and that and everything my eyes fix upon I can see.

  “What the hell did they do to me, Riker?” I choke slowly.

  “They ‘perfected’ you,” he explains. His mouth twisting in distaste at the word. It is their word, not his. “Physical defects are corrected upon acceptance into the Rochester Alliance. Since you already had to undergo medical treatment for moderate injuries they decided to complete the process.” His fingers glide over my cheeks now smooth as a child's.

  “Did they test my blood?” I ask. Riker looks at me, his face unreadable. “Did they make this decision before or after they ran some sort of test on me?”

  “After.” His face is still unreadable but I know he’s unsure of what to think. “How did Shade know this would work? Were you ever going to tell me that secret?”

  I look away, a bit ashamed. I didn’t know myself so how could I try and explain it to him? “I don’t know,” I say answering both questions.

  “But I’m sure you’d be most interested in finding out?” We turn, startled at Doctor Theta’s entrance.

  “How did you—?” I ask.

  “Cameras keep us safe,” she smiles. “I saw that you were awake and had your room’s camera feed streamed through my eye-screen.” Violation grates me like sandpaper against my skin. She seems oblivious to it. “Well? Would you like to know?”

  “Yes,” I stammer unnerved.

  “To begin I am happy to congratulate you both on your acceptance as citizens of the Rochester Alliance. More tests will have to be run of course but we are confident that you will pass and have therefore awarded you temporary citizenship.”

  “Why?” I demand swiftly. Even though this is exactly what Shade said to hope for I can’t help but feel a flutter of panic.

  “We found the results of your genetic tests acceptable.” She isn’t going to tell me.

  “You said you’d tell me why,” I insist, giving her a verbal shove.

  The doctor nods. “Of course. But it’s not for me to know or understand. I will escort you to someone who will.”

  As we’re ushered further into the lion’s den the doctor walks beside me. With something that can only be described as excitement she bends her head towards me and chatters quietly. “You’ve been requested by Doctor Xi himself! His research is some of the most prioritized in the country. Intern positions in his facilities are coveted amongst us hoping to rise quickly in the field of medicine.”

  I make no attempt to respond to her endless exaltations but I store the information nonetheless. We exit through a glass tunnel at the base of the building that opens to a descent of stairs. The doctor leads us onto a platform where we slide into seats within a large pill-shaped contraption. The moment we’re all buckled in it shoots off galloping down a set of tracks.

  The doctor is still talking so I cut her off. “Do you know a boy named Henry? I heard he was involved in an exciting project that involved Doctor Xi. Will I get to see him?” I keep my voice friendly and light, cutting straight to the chase.

  A shadow falls across her face and her fingers fidget beside her seat. “Anything involving Dr. Xi's projects is privileged information.”

  I let my sadness for Connors seep a touch into my words and keep my face both apologetic and hopeful. “It’s just, I knew Henry and I was really hoping to see him after all these years apart.”

  She glances towards me and looks away quickly. I wait patiently. Sometimes silence works better than words. “I don’t work for Doctor Xi so I’m not privy to any specific information regarding his highly protected projects.”

  I look down dismayed and trying (not too hard) to hide it.

  “However I’m not so unconnected as to not have friends who spend their allotted hobby hours prying into anything labeled ‘secret’ so I can tell you that there is a young boy who happens to be one of Doctor Xi’s most valued subjects. If the doctor is pleased with you and invites you to participate then I’m quite sure you’ll be able to see him. All the subjects are given one hour a day of interaction with each other as part of the experiment. Perhaps he’ll be this Henry you’re looking for.”

  I hide my cocky smirk painting my face instead with nothing but angelic gratitude. “Thank you.”

  Her lips are sealed tight for the rest of the ride, which is just as well since we arrive not five minutes later.

  CHAPTER 46

  We slide to a halt with a soft lurch. Casting off our safety belts we stand behind the doctor prepared to follow her into a cage. My mind whirs wildly for a plan but the timing is so delicate, the layout utterly unknown, that it’s impossible for me to know what will happen, what to do, where to go.

  Riker slips his hand around mine and squeezes reassurance into my bones. The doctor is saying something but I wasn’t listening, my ears drowned by the chaos of my thoughts. I do however hear her utter one particular word that is so soft it stabs me.

  “Oh,” she gasps softly before crumbling into a heap on the floor.

  Shock freezes my limbs and I blink disturbed at the boy staring back from the platform. White as cream from head to toe and eyes so pale they’re almost silver. His body is as thin and deformed as a skeleton. He can’t be more than ten or eleven years old. My mind registers all of these details but what unsettles me the most are his eyes. He looks at us as if he knows us.

  Finally I tear my eyes away from his and notice two guards slumped to either side of the doors. “Henry?” I ask, my voice barely more than a rasp.

  The boy’s mouth frowns. “Get back in the shuttle,” he orders, his voice cool like melting ice.

  He steps inside and we stagger back. Placing the limp doctor’s hand on the scanner it hums back to life. Riker bends down and drags the doctor to the side, folding her into a slumped seated position. The boy ignores him. As soon as he’s seated he punches in a destination and the shutt
le shoots off down more dark tunnels. Riker and I are flung to the ground from the velocity.

  Crawling into seats we strap ourselves in tight.

  “Are you Henry?” I ask again, this time my voice is sharp. I want to know who the hell this kid is and what he’s doing.

  “If that’s what my father named me. I don’t really remember,” he explains. “They call me Alpha77129 here.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was a very important test subject who has now escaped,” he grins and finally he looks like the boy he’s supposed to be.

  “Okay but—”

  “Don’t worry,” he soothes. “Everything’s going according to plan.”

  “What plan? You knew we were coming?” Riker interjects, suspicious.

  “Of course,” he shrugs calmly. “Didn’t you know?” From the looks on our faces he quickly gathers that we obviously don’t know. “I can see into the future.”

  My eyes narrow and a scoff slips from my throat.

  “I’m not lying,” he barks angrily. “I’ve seen you two coming for a while now. You came to get me. I thought it was because you knew I was different. You were going to help me.”

  Riker throws up his palms as if warding off a child’s tantrum. “Woah, okay we had no idea that you could…whatever. We were just told you had been taken against your will and where to take you if we got you out.”

  “Who told you?” he asks eagerly.

  Riker looks at me and I sigh. “It was in your grandfather’s journal,” I explain. “He’s dead. Your dad’s dead. I don’t know anything about your mom.” I mentally smack myself for my lack of tact. “Sorry,” I murmur, and I mean it.

  Disappointment weighs down his boney shoulders. “It’s okay.”

  “So what do we call you?” I ask, clearly changing the subject.

  “I dunno. Some of the interns called me Alpha.”

  I wrinkle my nose at the name. “Well, you’re not there anymore. You’re crossing the border. You’re gonna be a totally new person. So what’s your name gonna be?”