by Devi Mara
And Addar had not shown himself. Some part of her had honestly believed he would be waiting for her around the next corner, as she had wandered the city. But Robin had not seen him. He was gone. No. Not gone. Joined with who she suspected were his own people. Destroying cities.
…
“You have been very quiet, brother.”
Addar glanced at the woman on his right. “Have I?” He turned his gaze back to the burning city. “My apologies.”
Vanor stared at the side of his face. “What troubles you? The time spent with them?”
Addar saw her lip curl from the corner of his eye. “Yes.”
She lay a hand on his arm, her long nails tickling his bare skin. “You will never be without us again.”
He forced a smile. “That is a comfort.”
Once she walked out of the ship’s atrium, he gripped the railing near the window so tight the metal dented. Robin was down there somewhere. Possibly injured. And he was on one of the destroyers high above the city. He had no choice, but it rankled. He would not be able to leave until the troops had swept the city. It could be days.
In the meantime, Robin was wandering alone in the fire and destruction below him. His eyes scanned the city partially hidden by the mantle of smoke. A part of him feared it was already too late, that she had died in the initial strike, but no. She was too intelligent to stay in a deserted city.
When the commander had sent the message to the human governments, Addar was surprised. The commander was not known for his mercy. To give the local population time to evacuate was something Addar had never witnessed before. He shook his head. The commander was up to something. Unfortunately, he had fallen out of favor in his absence. The commander had not deigned to see him since his return.
The door slid open behind him and Addar glanced over his shoulder, expecting Vanor. Ilan strolled into the room with his arms crossed casually. He was in his usual garb, having changed the moment they arrived on the ship. Addar turned away from the knives that glittered on the assassin’s belt.
“You have not changed,” Ilan stated, as he stopped next to Addar to look out at the destruction.
Addar ignored him.
“Missing the human, perhaps?”
Turning slowly, Addar pinned him with a lethal glare. “Watch what you say to me.”
Ilan broke eye contact.
They stood in silence for several minutes, until Addar turned away from the window and left the atrium. Ilan did not look at him when he walked away. Addar took the corridor that passed the dining hall. His dress shoes echoed oddly on the ships metal flooring. After the bright lighting and colors of the humans, the monochrome and dim light of his people seemed wrong.
The corridor was full of people, but his scowl kept them away. There was nothing to engage his senses on the ship. It was not the way of his people. Everything and everyone smelled like the standard issue cleanser. From some of the odd looks he was receiving, he assumed he smelled of Earth. The many colorful scents mingling together into an interesting cocktail.
Addar stepped into the dining hall and glanced around. The line at the nutritional counter was short. Most of the tables were empty, all nonessential personnel in their quarters preparing for combat. There would be weapons to clean and armor to repair. Addar stepped into line and waited silently. He had not missed the quiet.
Earth was noisy. Everyone talking at once. His people did not believe in unnecessary speech. Every word was measured, weighed, before being spoken. He stepped up to the counter when it was his turn and took his packaged meal. A double serving. He raised his eyebrow at the machine, but turned away to find a seat. Clearly, the ship had been informed of his return. He assumed his room would have been prepared, as well.
He chose the table furthest from the door and sat where he could watch the others in the room. It was expected. His people were expected to always be aware of their surroundings. An enemy would not wait until their victim was facing them. He sat with his back perfectly straight and mechanically ate the flat, gray nutrition cakes.
Addar paused on the last bite and looked down at the empty packaging, as a realization hit him. He did not miss his life. The life he had always known. Travel, battle, cryo chambers. The unending business of his kind. It had always been bland, but it was only after Earth that he recognized it for what it was.
“Brother?”
He raised his gaze to see Vanor standing on the other side of the table. She had approached while he was distracted with his thoughts. From her disgruntled expression, she had realized it. For a moment, something close to fear crossed her face.
“Are you well?”
Addar rose from his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
She paused long enough that he thought she would push the point, but she finally nodded. “Very well.”
“My quarters have been prepared, I assume.”
Vanor nodded silently, still staring at him. Her burgundy gaze swept his form.
“Good.”
He strode past her and out of the dining hall. She did not follow.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The air smelled of smoke. Robin rolled up the van’s windows as they rolled into the center of the village. Somewhere on the other side of the two-story brick buildings in the village square, a fire was burning without anyone to put it out. Robin pulled up to the front of a drug store and killed the engine.
“We should refill our supplies,” Robin said over her shoulder.
Verna slid open the back door and climbed out without uttering a word. Robin watched her stretch and look both ways down the deserted sidewalk. There was something very eerie about the silence. Robin opened her own door and stepped out, leaving the keys in the ignition. Verna walked away, toward the general store to the left of the drug store.
Robin watched her until she vanished through the glass doors. She needed to change her bandages again. Her feet still throbbed, but the sharp pain had fully faded. A few more bandage changes and she would be able to walk without a limp. Robin smiled to herself and crossed the sidewalk.
She pushed on the doors, but unlike the general store, the doors stayed closed. Locked. Robin took a step back to peer through the glass doors. She glanced around. One of the bricks beneath the window was lose, crumbling on one side. She grabbed it and faced the door, but hesitated. Breaking and entering, theft, and now more breaking and entering.
As bad as they were, her recent actions were nothing compared to the ethics violations. Robin winced as the brick smashed the glass door. She ducked inside the store and went straight for the bandages and pain medication. Robin snatched a bottle of pain killers, a roll of bandages, and moved toward the back of the store to find a few toiletries.
She had just tucked the supplies into her jeans pockets when she heard an engine start. Her head jerked up from where she was considering grabbing floss and she caught a glimpse of red speeding by. The same shade as the minivan. Robin dropped the floss and ran for the front of the store. By the time she reached the sidewalk, the van was gone.
The sound of squealing tires echoed from a block away, before fading completely. Robin stumbled back to lean against the store front. Verna had left her. Robin looked to where the van had been parked, but there was nothing. Not even an empty bag. Robin rubbed at her face. She should have taken the keys with her.
Robin stood there in the quiet for a few minutes, before she forced herself to straighten and walk toward the general store next door. She would just have to find a new bag, some supplies, and another vehicle. As she thought it, she looked around. The square was deserted. She would have to venture into a neighborhood to find transportation.
Robin entered the store, ignoring the quiet beep that signaled her arrival. She glanced around and headed for the school supplies. Walking past the crayons and notebooks, she snatched a large backpack. The straps looked sturdy enough. She unzipped the bag and pulled out all of the paper stuffing in the interior to make room for supplies.
As she started to walk away, she thought better of it.
She picked up a few wads of paper and tucked them into a side pocket of the bag. On the off chance that she had to make a fire, it would be helpful to have paper on hand. With that thought in mind, Robin wandered the store until she found a box of matches. She tucked them into the same pocket as the paper.
Next to the greeting cards was a small collection of clothing racks. Robin considered it for only a moment, before she set down the backpack. She retrieved a package of baby wipes from the child care section and shed her jacket and undershirt. Robin gave herself a quick wipe-down and pulled a package of men’s undershirts off the shelf behind her.
She put one on and tucked the other two into her bag. Slipping on a t-shirt and a flannel shirt over that, she glanced around. A small bench sat nearby, intended for customer’s trying on shoes. She sat on it and pulled the medical supplies from her pocket and set them beside her. After changing her bandages, Robin tugged on a pair of thick socks and put on her boots again. The rest of the socks went into the backpack along with the toiletries from the drug store.
Her jeans were dirty and torn in a few places, but still functional. She flipped through the jeans on the rack nearest to her until she found a pair that looked like they would fit. She rolled them up and shoved them in the bottom of the bag. Wandering the store, she gathered several cans of food with easy-open lids and a box of plastic spoons. Once her backpack was halfway full, she loaded it with water bottles.
After taking a minute to rebraid her thick hair, she slid her arms into the straps of the backpack and pushed open the doors to the store. The sidewalk was as deserted as it had been nearly an hour before. Robin started to walk away and stopped. A watch. It would be invaluable. She hurried back into the store and found a watch with a thin, faux-leather band. She set the time based on the store’s clock and fastened it around her wrist, tucking a spare into her bag.
The second time she left the store, she did not look back. Robin walked down the sidewalk, past the three-story courthouse and over a dozen empty stores. At the stop sign, she looked both ways. Ahead of her, the road passed several houses and curved to the right. She assumed it was the way out of town. Robin turned left and walked toward a side street filled with houses.
The first five driveways she passed were empty. The sixth held a red pick-up being held together with rust and duct tape. She paused at the end of the driveway and frowned at it. It would not get more than a few miles down the road before it fell apart. She looked down the street. Every other driveway was empty.
Robin sighed, but started up the driveway toward the old truck. The door screeched when she pulled it open and she looked around the interior. The seats were covered in faded cloth covers that smelled strongly of chewing tobacco. She wrinkled her nose at the sweet scent. Robin reached for the driver’s side visor and a small set of keys tumbled into the seat. She sighed. It was better than nothing.
She shifted out of the backpack and tossed it across the seat, before climbing into the truck. Once the door shut, the smell got stronger. Cold air or not, she was driving with the windows down. If the truck would even start. After two tries, the engine turned over. It made the truck vibrate hard enough to rattle her teeth. Robin cranked the driver’s side window down a few inches, as much as she could tolerate with the cold air, and shifted the truck into drive.
With a disturbing clunk, the truck began to move. Once out on the street, Robin gave it a little gas. The truck shuddered, but slowly accelerated. She glanced at her watch. From what she had seen on the map in the van, she was just over three hours from the National Guard base in Bloomington. She peered out the windshield at the sky. It would be dark in two hours. Robin sighed and pushed on the accelerator a little harder.
…
Addar stood in the center of what had been a small city. It was a smoldering pile of wreckage after his people had passed through it. His gaze moved over the burnt husks of buildings and the blood splashed sidewalks and he kept his face devoid of expression. His sisters and brothers were near. As if the thought had summoned her, Vanor appeared from the smoke. She stepped over the gnarled remains of a human body and stopped in front of him.
“How easy they fall, my brother.”
Addar met her cool gaze. “Indeed.” He turned away.
Addar wandered through the wreckage, hoping not to find a familiar face. She would have come to Bloomington when Chicago fell. She would have been with the humans who were now nothing but mangled bodies. He did not want to see it, but something kept him going. He had to know. She deserved better than a slow decomposition on the street.
“Scout,” Ilan greeted from off to his right.
Addar glanced at him. “Assassin.”
“Do you seek something? It is not usual to see you on a battlefield after the fighting is done.”
Addar raised an eyebrow at him. “My business is my own.”
Ilan ducked his head. “As you say.”
Addar watched him until he vanished into the drifting smoke. Once he was sure the assassin was gone, he reached out with his senses. He had fed from Robin in the early days of his life. Just once. When he was a mere bundle of cells. As such, her energy signature was burned into his memory. He could find her.
Part of him did not want to. Addar looked around him at the fallen humans. If he found her, it would mean she was dead. His people did not take captives so early in the invasion. That would come later. When the population was too low to pose even the slightest threat.
Addar closed his eyes and reached out for Robin’s energy. She was not among the fallen. His eyes popped open and he frowned. At the onset of the battle all of the humans had been herded to the center of the city. If she was in the vicinity, she would be among the dead. She was not.
Addar looked up at the sky. The light was fading quickly. Already the shadows stretched across the streets. It would be night in less than half an hour. Addar gave the destroyed city another long look and turned away to return to the ship.
“Burn it,” he told a soldier as he passed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She thought it was a cloud, a large storm in the sky ahead of her, but as she drew closer to Bloomington the smell of smoke drifted through the truck window. Fire. The city was on fire. Robin drove until the National Guard roadblock made it impossible to continue in the truck. She climbed out with her backpack and walked toward the city center.
The lights were still on but every building she passed was empty, no sign of the National Guard or the people who had been evacuated from Chicago. Bloomington was as much of a ghost town as all of the others she had driven through. Robin only made it a few blocks into the city before the smoke became too thick to continue. Whatever had happened in Bloomington was over. If anyone had survived, they certainly had not hung around.
Robin turned and walked back to the truck. She sat in the cab, the struggling heater keeping the truck just slightly warmer than outside, and scowled at the smoke billowing up from the city center. Bloomington was far smaller than Chicago, but it was not a small town. With a portion of Chicago’s population, the city must have held a few hundred thousand people.
She shifted the truck into reverse and backed away from the barricade. They must have moved the people elsewhere. Robin drove back onto the highway and headed east toward Indianapolis. If the city had been evacuated, they would have sent them that way. Perhaps, there was another base along the highway.
Robin followed the two-lane highway until it connected with the interstate. She drove for nearly two hours, the headlights of the truck the only light in the darkness. At just after eight in the evening, she stopped at a deserted roadside café. The lights inside were off, but the glass was fogged. Robin smiled and turned off the truck, pocketing the keys and grabbing the backpack.
A large rock took care of the glass and she reached inside to unlock the door. The interior of the café was almost hot, a welcome change from the cold she had
felt the past couple days. She found the lights and switched on the ones over the bar. She tried the TV first, but there was only static on every station but one. That one had an emergency broadcast.
She snapped off the TV and headed for the kitchen. Half a dozen eggs and a package of bacon sat in the refrigerator. The shelf in the pantry held a package with a few pieces of bread.
Robin made breakfast on the café’s large grill using trial and error. She burned the first two eggs she attempted and had to turn down the temperature to get two eggs to cook fully without becoming inedible. The bacon was easier. The toast was a simple matter of cooking the bread on both sides until it was brown.
She sat down with her plate at the bar. As she ate, Robin considered the situation. The city had probably been burned by the same ship that destroyed Chicago. Which meant the larger cities were the primary targets. Once those were gone, the attackers would move onto smaller cities, then towns, then villages. They would probably handle rural areas last. So that would be the safest place to be.
Robin finished her breakfast and slid off the barstool. Next to the door to the café was a small rack of postcards and pamphlets. She turned the rack until she found what she was looking for: a map of Illinois. Robin returned to the bar and spread the map out on the counter. According to the name of the café, she was near the Illinois-Indiana border.
She looked over the map, following the highway with her fingertip. After a moment, Robin paused and checked the map’s index. There was a small town only twenty miles south-east of her. She memorized the name of the road that connected the town to the highway and folded the map. With a population of just over three thousand, it should be large enough to have what she needed and small enough to be ignored for the time being.
