Billy jumps back. Ella lets out a yelp.
Natalie and I look at each other. I want to smile, but I don’t dare.
“Justin!” Gabe yells. “Come on, you can do it. I know you’re okay!”
My little brother isn’t startled, and he doesn’t stop like the rest of us. He keeps pulling bodies off the stack; they slide to the left and the right until they’re all around us, some of them staring up at us like they want to tell us their story—
I was trying to run away—
They came from nowhere—
What are those shiny monsters—
Pale skin, gray lips, eyes open and glazed, the dead tell us their deaths by their wounds—a sliced neck, a knife in the chest, a blow to the head.
More bodies slide off, the pile of cadavers begins to sway, limbs tremble, and it looks like they might meld into one large creature, like it will come to life with a vengeance and a groan.
Or with a smile like sunshine.
Justin pushes his way out, and we’re helping him, prying away the last few corpses; we’re laughing and chattering and telling him to hurry and asking how did this happen. Some of us, like me, are crying. And I don’t care if he’s half dead or if he has blood on his clothes or if he didn’t hear me whisper I love you to him last night. Once he’s set free and I know he’s okay, I throw my arms around him.
He wraps me in his arms and pulls me close.
I can feel his heartbeat pressed against mine, the same thundering rhythm in both our chests.
It’s not romantic. How could it be? We’re in the midst of an apocalypse and he was almost dead, and we’re surrounded by alien and human carcasses. I don’t care.
“Don’t do that again,” I say into his chest. “Never do that again.”
“You mean save you?”
I laugh. We all laugh.
“No. Don’t let me think you’re dead.”
He grins down at me, and it’s like the world shifts under my feet, and not in a Xua-invasion kind of way.
In a million years, I never would have imagined this.
But you don’t get to choose that moment when you die.
And you don’t get to choose the moment you fall in love, either.
He cups my face in his huge hands. “I heard what you said last night,” he whispers, so softly no one else can hear him. “I love you, too.”
That ache in my heart disappears. Every problem in my life melts away. There’s only gold and sunshine and hope. There’s only this moment, right now, this horribly perfect moment in the midst of the end of the world.
“Are you okay?” he asks, gently touching my bottom lip with his thumb.
“I am now,” I say.
I thought our first kiss would be when we were hanging out at the park or when we were standing outside the coffee shop or when we went to the beach. I’d have my hair combed and my makeup on. I would be showered. Clean.
Not this. Not in front of my friends, covered head to toe in blood, when more Xua could show up at any minute, when there are more dead bodies than I can count.
He gives me another smile, and I swear we’re wrapped in a brilliant sunbeam, so bright I can’t see anything but him. Then his lips touch mine, and his heat floods through me until I think I’m going to catch on fire. Together, we’re either going to save the world or burn it down, and right now, I don’t care which one. As long as he’s alive, that’s all that matters.
And so I add another item to my list.
Save Gabe.
Save the world.
Keep Justin alive.
20
We crouch in a patch of grass and bushes, catching our breath and staring at a building across the street, trying to decide if it’s safe to approach or not. Justin lies on his back beside me, his eyes closed. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was asleep. He’s not. It’s more like he’s recharging his batteries, like he’s hooking up to a version of SkyPower for Genetics. I’d really like to stare at him, to spend the entire day thinking about what he said to me and the fact that we finally kissed, but I can’t.
This is the happiest day of my life and the worst.
The boy I’ve fallen for is in love with me, too.
My brother is alive, but the alien I’ve trusted for fifteen lives lied to me.
The war isn’t over. It’s just getting started.
According to Justin, Carla might have survived the Xua attack back in Snake City. They got separated a few hours before sunrise when she got a call from her father. I totally understand why she had to leave us, why she had to take her gang and try to rescue her dad. No matter what, family and loved ones come first.
I would have done the same thing.
Then another wave of Gov-Net news comes on, and I wish I could close my eyes and block it out. It’s as bad as what we saw back in Snake City, except it’s everywhere. We’re forced to watch the wreckage of London, Mexico City, and Ottawa—after those cities were attacked—bodies strewn throughout the streets, people running, children crying, and everywhere, silver bodies charging and turning into smoke.
Ella buries her head in the grass, weeping, and Gabe puts his arm around her. Billy slams his fist on the ground, over and over, and I don’t know if he’ll ever stop. Justin’s eyes flicker open, and he stares into the sky above him, a tormented look on his face that breaks my heart.
“Can’t we get these skin sites out?” I ask Natalie. “We need to be able to focus, but…” My voice cracks, and I can’t say any more.
Natalie seems to be studying something, like she’s taking notes on what’s going on around the world. Her brow furrows and her lips move, as if she’s talking to herself. “Huh? Um, yeah,” she answers me finally. “But we’ll lose our com system, too. And honestly, we’d need a surgeon. You saw how long the tendrils were on Gabe’s skin sites, didn’t you? They go deep inside your head and wrap around your—”
“If we can’t take them out, can we turn them off?”
She nods. “I think so. I’ll do some research, as soon as this news blast shuts off.”
I force myself to concentrate, to stay focused on our next task. Regroup, enlist, restock. That was our purpose for coming to Station Five. We didn’t get supplies before we left Snake City. I managed to find my backpack on the riverbed, but we’re out of water and food, and we could use a few more weapons and a few more members on our team.
And we need to help any survivors, if we can.
I stare at the building across the street, a place both familiar and dangerous. Century Unified High School. Most Southern California schools have sprawling campuses with buildings spread out across acres of land. But Century Unified was built in the 1940s, so it doesn’t look like other schools around here. It’s a frigging fortress. Made from brick and stone and three stories tall, it looks like something out of a nineteenth-century Gothic novel. This thing should have gargoyles perched on the roof, that’s how imposing it looks.
There are only two entrances, one in the front, one in the back.
That means it would be easy to guard, we’d have an escape route, we’d be able to see who is approaching from the upper-floor windows, and I’d bet a chocolate protein bar that the cafeteria is stocked with food and the water fountains still work.
On top of that, the front and side of the building are covered with new graffiti. Street art of the revolution kind. Most prominent is a large V scrawled across the front. I have no idea how anyone managed to make a V that big—the crazy thing stretches from the third floor to the ground floor.
V for victory. V for we’re winning this war, you effing aliens. V for we might only be high schoolers, but we’ve got the skills to kick your butt across the universe and back again.
Other words have been painted with orange spray paint, too, and I realize that nobody knows how to spell Xua. The
se people only heard me say the name of the alien race on my videos, so they’ve written it phonetically, a bunch of different ways.
Death to the Zow!
The XOW suck!
Go home, you Zou jerks, before we destroy ALL OF YOU!
I shouldn’t smile, but I can’t help it. This might seem like the last place for us to regroup, but it could be the best place. If there are other kids our age still alive, they might be here.
…
“That makes six,” Billy says.
“Seven,” Natalie says. “Did you see the girl with blue hair? She went in—”
“I counted her.”
“Then you missed one of the others.”
If I measured relationships by heat, I’d give these two a score of Ten-and-Get-a-Room. Billy watches Natalie from the corner of his eye, probably hoping he’ll see a smile or some sort of acknowledgment. She frowns. There might be a hookup in their future, but I kind of doubt it’s going to be today.
Today we survive.
And take over Century Unified.
Plan B.
We’ve been watching the school for an hour. During that time, Natalie used her tablet to find out how to disable our skin sites, but she doesn’t look happy about what she found. She signals me and writes something in the dirt.
Everybody should call Gabe by a different name from now on.
I frown. “Why?”
She puts a finger to her lips.
She writes, Call him Alice or Sally.
Oh, he’s going to love this. I pull each member of our team over as quietly as possible and make them read what she has written.
“Are you frigging kidding me?” Gabe asks. He bends down and writes something in the dirt, then grins.
Handsome Boy.
Holy crap.
Billy cracks up, but then says, “Okay, Handsome Boy.”
Meanwhile, the Xua have ramped up their attack in the south. Something exploded a few minutes ago, and I’d have to guess it was an eighteen-wheeler on the 405. The aliens are focusing on Costa Mesa and Newport Beach right now, so maybe they won’t notice that we got away.
Maybe they don’t care about Gabe anymore. That’s not exactly saving the world, but if making it through the night means he’s safe—well, as safe as any of us in an alien invasion can be—I’ll take it.
“Okay, is everyone ready to go?” I ask.
“I’ve been ready for two hours,” Billy says.
“We haven’t even been here that long,” Natalie counters.
Justin gives me a slow grin, one that sets me on fire. “You know I’m ready.”
My heart skips a beat, and I try not to read anything else into his statement. He’s talking about our mission, not us. He’s not the type to tease. Or flirt.
Right?
His grin widens.
Whoa. This is probably why I never gave in to my feelings before.
Natalie jostles me with her elbow. “Hey,” she whispers. “Are we ready to go or not, girl? Stay focused.”
I swallow, clench my fists, and force myself to think about the few people who might be inside that school, looking for help.
“Go!” I say.
And we run.
21
We’re an army of six, invading a building that never seemed safe, not in any of my lifetimes. School might be a great experience for some people my age, but it never was for me. I always wanted to be like all the other girls and, somehow, I never succeeded.
Fitting in is probably overrated.
Once we reach the front steps, I hold out my open palm, a signal that means, Stop, wait.
We slam to a halt.
“We can’t all go inside. What if they’re waiting for us?” I glance at Justin. “Keep Handsome Boy outside, okay? Keep him safe. I’ll check back with you in fifteen.”
Justin nods, and Gabe sulks.
I walk a little closer to him and take a whiff, then shake my head. “You don’t smell like piss anymore. We’re going to have to fix that before we leave.”
“Seriously?” my brother says.
“We’ll look for something,” Justin says. He leads Gabe toward the field beside the school where some PE equipment got left out. Baseballs, bats, soccer balls, and basketballs lay strewn along the edge of the building. My brother’s eyes light up, and I know he’s looking at the soccer ball.
“You have fifteen minutes, but stay focused. We’re looking for survivors. Got it?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Got it.”
Then Natalie, Ella, Billy, and I jog up the stairs, ready to head into the building that used to be a place of dreams and rules and assignments. Weapons drawn, bandannas around our faces, we look more like Wild West bandits than students, and that’s just fine with me.
…
The halls are dim, no lights are on, and the building is so quiet it’s creepy. Our shoes squeak on the tile floors, and there’s a smell of fresh paint in the air. Somebody must have tagged the inside of the school recently. But those six or seven people we saw earlier aren’t in sight. Maybe they did a through and through—run in the front door and then go out the back. It’s what you do when you’re trying to ditch someone.
I hope they aren’t afraid and hiding from us.
“Billy, you and Ella go to the cafeteria and get us some food. Anything you can carry. And if you find bottles of water, grab them, too,” I say. “But hurry and meet us upstairs in about five minutes. We’re going to do a quick sweep down here, then go up to the second floor.”
He nods, and the two of them jog away. Ella’s long red hair is the last thing I see before they disappear through the cafeteria door.
We haven’t seen anyone else yet.
“Hey!” I call out. “Anybody here?”
Natalie flashes me a guarded look as we walk down the hallway. I shrug.
“We have to find them, right?” I ask her.
“Or not. I’m in the ‘or not’ camp.”
We hear it then, a scurry of feet, a soft whoosh as a door closes, somewhere up on the second or the third floor. Natalie sighs.
“Whoever they are, you probably just scared them off. Can we at least get some water before we track them down?” she asks, pausing in front of a drinking fountain.
That’s when we get yet another Gov-Net newscast, but the transmission on this one is sketchy, almost like it’s breaking down. I stumble a couple of steps and grab hold of the wall for support.
It’s a broadcast of a Xua attack—but this time they’re in Washington, D.C., our effing capital.
My knees feel weak, and I can’t understand what the announcer is saying.
Meanwhile, the Xua in the video are dissolving, turning into a dark cloud and heading for the White House. That’s when the transmission stops.
It takes a minute for me to see the school hallway clearly. I rub my temples and blink.
Then we hear it again—shuffling sounds like there are other people somewhere on an upper floor. I nod toward the stairs, and the two of us jog in that direction.
“Hey,” I say in a low voice. “What did you find out about turning off our skin sites?”
“I found an app on the dark web,” Natalie says as we start up the stairs. “A lot of people use it to block out Gov-Net. It’s not as good as having our skin sites removed, but it might help. The only thing is, some of the reviews were kind of freaky.” We pause on the landing between the first and second floor. She continues. “Some people think our skin sites have built-in tracking devices, like GPS markers—”
“What the—”
“Yeah, it gets worse,” she says. “There are at least two cases where people think the Xua used our skin sites to find human targets. One was the president of France. He went underground as soon as the invasion hit, it w
as totally secret, but the aliens found him anyway and killed him—”
I hold up my hand for her to be quiet.
We’re on the second floor now, and there are definitely people up here. It sounds like there’s something going on downstairs, too. We jog toward the voices in a nearby classroom and both pull out our laser switchblades, just in case, all while my pulse is ratcheting up and I’m arguing with myself.
The Xua can’t track Gabe. We took out his skin sites. So, why are we calling him Handsome Boy now?
“What else did you find out?” I ask her in a whisper.
“They might be listening in on our conversations. They might have hacked our skin sites and could even be listening right now. They might be searching for anyone who says you-know-who’s name.”
I freeze, trying to remember the last time I said his name. Was it back in Snake City, was it when we were on our way to Station Five, was it when we were crouched in the grass across the street?
I no longer want to find survivors. I only want to make sure Gabe is still okay. The fastest way to do that is to look out the windows from a second-story classroom. Billy and Ella just jogged out of the stairwell and are now right behind us.
“Follow me!” I say.
All four of us rush through the door of a nearby classroom, one that overlooks the field where we left Gabe and Justin. Three girls are standing in front of the windows, and we startle them when we run in, our weapons drawn. These girls were our mission when we first got here, but not now.
Now it’s all about Gabe.
“Move away from the windows!” I yell.
They were all staring outside at something, and I fight the fear that chews at my gut. I push a blue-haired girl out of my way so I can see down onto the field. For a moment, all the tension in my body dissipates. Gabe is okay. He’s standing just below these windows, at the edge of the school building with Justin. Meanwhile, the group of people who’d been down on the field is talking to Justin. I think they might be sharing their food rations; I can’t tell. They’re all trying to keep to the shadows.
But then the universe shifts again, and it’s like I’m tumbling through space, a swarm of butterflies spiraling in my gut.
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