Natalie frowns. “It’s top secret and some guy in the military wanted you to have it? Why?”
I shrug.
“We should take a look. Give it to me.” She pulls out her tablet—she never goes anywhere without it. With a flick of her wrist, she’s got the flash drive hooked up, and it only takes a minute or two for her to access the files. It downloads onto her internal drive. Images and charts and word documents fly up, one after another.
“Hey, what’s that? Is that a picture from Titan?” I ask.
She tries to find it, then opens it, and we both stare. It’s a shot of a mining camp on another planet, but it looks old, like the camp has been there for years, which is wrong, since the Valiant hasn’t even landed yet. The image is slightly out of focus, but I can definitely see a group of people approaching in the distance, dust blowing around them.
They glow in the dark. They’ve got to be Xua.
“That’s from the future,” I say, confused.
She nods.
“Open that video.” I point.
She clicks on it and, a moment later, we’re watching a general as he talks to a group of soldiers. The really weird thing is, the video’s got an embedded time stamp from forty years in the future.
“The real battle can only be won in the future—in the twenty-second century. No matter how many times we try to beat them in the twenty-first century, we always lose,” he says. He stares at the camera, his gaze piercing.
The Xua have been fighting battles with us in different time periods? Aerithin never told me that.
A shiver flows through me as the video continues.
“So far, we’ve only found a few weaknesses.” The general holds up his hand and starts flicking off his fingers, one by one. “First, if you kill one of their Leaders, you immediately weaken the rest of that cell. Second, every time they travel through time, their genetic material breaks down a little bit more—”
I nod. I already knew this.
The general continues with his list of Xua weaknesses.
“And, as a result, the decisions made by the Xua keep getting more erratic, more unpredictable.”
Again, he’s staring at the camera, and I almost feel like he’s talking directly to me. I knew this message was going to be horrible. I wish he would stop, but he doesn’t.
“And finally, for some reason they always go after the adults first. I think they’ve made a huge mistake by ignoring the children. I sincerely believe that, even if we fail, our children will be able to carry on the battle for us.”
Natalie pauses the video and stares at me.
Neither one of us can speak.
My heart races and my stomach churns.
“They haven’t been ignoring the children,” Natalie says. “They’ve just been going after one particular kid, over and over. Gabe.”
“But he’s gone.”
“And then they started going after you, Sara. There was that group of Xua that attacked you in the coffee shop, that frenzy that was heading right for your house…”
“And that Leader in the clinic. But why me?”
“Maybe Aerithin triggered something by trying to save you and Gabe. Maybe he broke the rules.”
“So this is vengeance for that?”
“I don’t think so,” Natalie says. “But maybe we’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe this isn’t your last chance to save the world. Maybe it’s their last chance to destroy it. If Gabe is still alive—and I really, really want to believe that—then maybe he’s stuck in the future and he’s trying to find his way back through the mirror doors somehow.”
“I like that idea.”
“Me too. Except it’s possible that whatever is happening in the future is what’s making the Xua fight so hard this time. In the past twenty-four hours, they’ve almost killed you multiple times. Remember, if you die, we all die.”
I nod. “Then we better get that effing salt and get out of here. Fast.”
42
We work all night long, but the sun still comes up sooner than we expect. Blue shadows stretch behind the building while yellow light reflects off the few unpainted windows. The air’s cool and brisk and welcome as it blows across my neck. My hair’s damp with sweat when I finally stand up and glance around, noting that we’ve got all our bags of salt positioned around the building. Next step: start pouring. I’m going to leave that part to the others. I’ve got something to do inside.
First, I check on Natalie. She’s back in our room, finally asleep again. I check the younger kids, cover those who have kicked off their blankets, then glance at Billy. He traded places with Ella when we got back from Walmart so he could guard everyone in our room. He was quite insistent on it, in fact. I watch him now, his head nodding on his chest, rifle draped over the back of his chair.
Even though he’s almost asleep, he’s still holding Natalie’s hand.
She hasn’t said anything about this yet, but she doesn’t have to. If she didn’t want his attention, she’d tell him to back off. If there’s one thing I know about that girl, it’s that she’s not shy.
I’m smiling when I leave the room.
The rest of the building is silent, even more so than it was in the middle of the night. No one wants to wake up and face this new world. Better to stay asleep as long as possible, dreaming about things we’ve lost.
I wish I had time for dreams.
But even if I wanted to sleep, I can’t.
Something’s coming. I can feel it, like a steady tremor beneath the balls of my feet.
I just hope we’re ready in time.
Once I get out of our hallway, I hear vague movement and soft voices. Someone is already working in the cafeteria. Smells like they’re making oatmeal with brown sugar. My mouth waters as I pause before the open door and spot a woman inside, slicing apples. I wonder how much time we have before we run out of food. That’s got to be our next priority—send out a search party and bring back as much food as we can. After that, we need to find a way to go on the offensive, maybe form teams and attack the Xua with salt.
We should have gotten some high-pressure water guns at Walmart. I could have made a saltwater slurry to put inside and handed them out to all the kids here.
Note to self: Head back to Walmart ASAP.
People are waking up now. Shadowy figures appear in doorways, rubbing sleep from their eyes, mouths opening in wide yawns. Two girls wave as I pass—I think they were in my algebra class last year, back at Century Unified. I don’t remember their names, but I notice they’ve both drawn large black Vs on their hands with marker.
I should start getting these people ready for what’s ahead. Maybe I’ll hold a training session in the conference room later today. Make sure they all know how to use those weapons they’ve been carrying around. They need to get ready for the next step.
But first, I need to make a change in everyone’s diet.
…
The woman making breakfast isn’t happy to hear my request. I do my best to explain it to her, and she keeps shaking her head, refusing. In the end I do it myself when her back is turned. Then I head back through the building, passing a group of four sleepy ten-year-olds, all heading toward the showers. I overhear one of the boys boasting about his last round of Virtual Street Racing, how he managed to beat everyone online that day.
In my mind I see Gabe, fingers curved around his game controller.
He’s a welcome ghost, haunting me, following me, waiting for me to figure out where he is.
Sunlight sears the hallway up ahead, bolder and brighter now, through the open doors on the loading dock. I’m heading toward our makeshift infirmary, set up in the first room past this entrance. I’m trying to figure out if there might be other people on staff who are Xua. I think there’s a nurse, too, or maybe she’s a nurse’s aide. She mainly does what
ever the other two staff members tell her to do. As far as I can tell, the surgeon must be in charge. A burly man with a rattling smoker’s cough and fingers like sausages, he doesn’t look capable at all. But somehow he manages to spin magic with those broad meaty hands. I saw him lace up a boy’s bleeding arm with nearly invisible stitches, and I watched how he tended to Natalie’s bullet wounds.
I’m dreading this conversation.
The door hangs open, and the first thing I see is an empty cot. All the computers have been moved to a counter along the far wall, and medical supplies cover the desks. The doctor is half asleep, leaning back in an office chair, feet propped up on a desk. His eyes flicker open when I walk in, and I worry that he already knows why I’m here.
I have to tell him what happened last night, and I have to be honest with him, because my next step is to ask what he knows about Aerithin and my brother.
I do my best to be diplomatic as I tell him about Mr. Malone. About how I trapped him in another office with a layer of salt, how he panicked and jumped out the window. I mention that I didn’t mean for that to happen and that I wasn’t trying to hurt him. The doctor’s first response is to glance out the window, as if Malone might still be out there, waiting for him. Then he rises to his feet and, now that there are just the two of us in the room, I realize he’s a massive brute. Broad shoulders, muscular arms.
I hope he doesn’t wig out like Mr. Malone.
“You did what?” he demands, leaning over me. I hear that slight accent creeping into his words, and he sounds almost like Doctor Hathaway last night. “Why would you do that? We came here to help you.”
“I—I—” I can barely get a complete sentence out. Meanwhile, I slip one hand inside my pocket and wrap my fingers around my switchblade. Just pressing it into my palm restores my courage. “If there was a way to stop the Xua—the bad Xua—I needed to know. I had to test it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for him to run away. I just wasn’t thinking that—”
“Blast it, girl! We’re shorthanded now,” he says, glancing around him as if he’s trying to count his allies. “If the others attack the building, we won’t be much use to you without Malone.”
“But we’re making a barrier right now.” I point toward the window. “It should keep the other Xua away. We should all be safe.”
He studies me suspiciously, then goes to the window and stares outside. I join him, both of us watching as Justin slices open another bag of salt and starts pouring. He’s making a thin line that traces the shape of the building. I know Carla and Ella are doing the same thing, each of them positioned in different sections around the perimeter.
The doctor curses, loud and long, then he swings toward me. I back up and pull out my switchblade, afraid he’s going to strike.
“You’re making a barrier out of salt?”
I nod. Either he doesn’t notice my weapon or it doesn’t impress him.
“They told me about you.” His eyes narrow, and I feel like I’m getting a repeat performance of last night. “But I didn’t believe you’d be this much trouble. ‘How can one girl possibly harm us?’ I said. But you’re trapping us in here and giving us a death sentence. The other Xua already consider us traitors. If they find us, they’ll kill us first. If you think what Xua do to humans is bad, you have no idea what they do to their own kind.”
I swing my blade, just to make sure he sees it, just in case he’s thinking about doing anything. Like jumping.
Instead, he opens his mouth wide and screams. It’s a long, high-pitched shriek that warbles between octaves and shreds every nerve in my body. I can’t stand it. I fall to my knees and cover my ears, cringing in pain. Down the hall, I hear a resounding cry, in a different pitch but equally horrid. A moment later another one screams, from the far side of the building, I think.
The alien cries seem to go on forever, and I swear they can be heard on the moon.
Then the doctor shoves me aside with a brawny hand. I tumble to the floor and hit one of the long tables on the way. Bandages and vials of medicine bounce down, some of them striking me on the head. I’m still shaking from the screams. I think they may have stopped my heart for a second. I’m gasping and trembling, one hand still clinging to my switchblade.
And then the screams echo through the building one more time as the three of them head toward the exit.
43
They leave, all three of them. One more Xua than I knew about. They cover their mouths, probably trying to keep salt from getting in, and they race out the front door side by side, as if we might try to stop them. Most of us, me included, are cowering, hoping we never hear another trio of screams like that again. None of us speaks for several minutes. We walk around, numb, trying to regain our composure.
My friends must know what I just did. Natalie will forgive me, I’m sure, even though this will affect her the most. Losing her doctor was the last thing I wanted.
The barrier’s almost finished, and volunteers are passing out breakfast. Sliced apples and steaming bowls of oatmeal laced with brown sugar.
And lots of salt.
I wince as I watch everyone bite into their food, then spit it out. Time to man up. Not that I want to. I stand in the middle of the hall and speak as loudly as I can, which isn’t really that loud. “Okay, I know it doesn’t taste very good, but you have to eat it!” I yell. “We can’t waste food. Not now.”
A couple of people try another bite, then swallow with great reluctance.
“And from now on, at least one of our meals every day will contain a large quantity of salt!” I’m still yelling. They stare at me with furrowed brows. “I don’t have time for explanations. You need to trust me. The Xua can’t stand to be around salt, so this is necessary for our survival.”
That gets everyone’s attention.
I have to keep this place Xua-free. No more Jumpers. And apparently, no more hidden “we’re the good guys” Xua, either.
Justin and Carla walk in the front door while I’m explaining the food situation, both of them looking exhausted. Someone hands them each a dish of oatmeal. Carla tastes hers and wrinkles her nose but manages to eat it anyway. Justin pushes his away.
“I raided our food supply last night, right before we headed out to get the salt,” he says. “I’ll take my dose later.”
Meanwhile, Billy jogs down the hallway toward us. I can tell by his expression that he’s upset. His cheeks are red and his fists clenched.
“The doctor’s missing. Do you know where he is?” he asks.
“Yeah. He left with the other Xua,” I answer. “I told him what happened last night with Mr. Malone.”
“Why?” He stares at me with an incredulous look.
“Because I wanted him to trust me,” I say. “I was hoping he’d tell me where my brother is.”
Justin stands beside me, his arms crossed.
“But now we don’t have a surgeon,” Billy says. “What if something happens to one of us?” Then he says what we’re all really thinking. “What if something happens to Natalie?”
“I’m fine,” Natalie says, her voice quieter than usual. She’s pushing her way through the crowd toward us. “Look, Sara’s right. She gave them the choice to stay or leave. Once that circle of salt was finished, they wouldn’t have been able to get out. Not even if they jumped into smoke. Would you want to be trapped in here?”
“I am trapped,” he says.
“Nobody’s making you stay.” Her hands are on her hips. I’m not sure if anyone else notices it, but there are two small bloodstains on her T-shirt. Right where those bullets slammed through her yesterday.
“Okay, guys, enough,” I say. “Natalie, you need to get back to bed. Carla, find that nurse—I know she’s still here somewhere—and get her to take a look at Natalie’s bullet wounds. And we can’t wait till the last minute. We need to send out a team for food and supplies. Any vol
unteers?”
I scan the raised hands, note that almost all of them are kids below the age of twelve. I shake my head. “You gotta be at least fourteen to go off-site. Now let me see who wants to go.”
Nobody lowers their hands.
I sigh.
I guess having too many people willing to risk their lives is slightly better than none.
Billy’s helping Natalie back to our room. Justin and I are trying to figure out who’s really old enough to go out looking for food when Ella comes in the front door. She wipes a hand across her forehead, brushing damp red curls aside as she grins and announces that our salt barrier is finally done. Right then, when I think maybe we’ve accomplished something that might help protect us, we all get some news.
Some very bad news.
44
The Gov-Net announcement comes when we all stand in the hallway. Ella’s mouth hangs open as everyone around us freezes in place. Those who have working skin-site connections stare off at the holographic transmission. I’m just about to ask someone nearby what’s going on when the building loudspeakers unexpectedly kick in. They’re part of an old emergency broadcast system, wired about fifty years ago, long before skin sites were invented. The original owner of this building must have decided to leave the old systems in place, just in case.
This is one of those emergencies they were hoping would never happen.
The president is speaking. I don’t need to see his face to recognize his voice, that rich baritone that carries a hint of a smile in its tone. Up until now, Washington has been dark, and as a result, we’ve all been too scared to talk about what happened. I’m silently praying he gives us a message of hope, something to encourage us and keep us going.
And that he isn’t a Hunter. Because if he is, our country is toast.
Valiant Page 21
