by Devi Mara
A moment later, another bang came from the other side of the fence. A gunshot. Robin immediately crouched down and hurried to slide her arms through the straps of the rucksack. A yell rose from no more than a block away. It was followed by a series of rapid fire gunshots. Robin gave up on stealth and sprinted in the opposite direction.
She ran across the parking lot and empty street, ducking behind a bank as the shouting came again. Two groups yelling at each other. When the noises stayed in place, Robin took the chance to move further into town. After five blocks, the gunshots were alarming but not an immediate threat.
Robin stayed off the streets and sidewalks, keeping to the alleys as much as possible. The commercial property faded into large Victorian mansions. Every one colorful and well-kept. Robin found her pace slowing as she walked by them. The silence gave her confidence and she deserted the alley, easing past one of the large houses to walk on the sidewalk.
Her gaze drifted back and forth down the empty street. Every driveway was empty, the citizens abandoning their city to move to a nearby base. At the thought, Robin remembered what happened to the last base she encountered. The owners of the beautiful houses were probably dead. The realization made her look away and continue walking.
Addar said she was responsible for the current situation. That everything that followed her tampering with Ilan’s DNA was indirectly her fault. Robin paused at a four way stop, staring unseeing at the street ahead. He could not be right. She was a scientist. She pursued knowledge, always had. It was unfair to blame her for the actions of one of Addar’s people.
Even as she thought it, mentally arguing her innocence, the idea nagged at her. A quiet tapping from off to her left, pulled her out of her own head. She slowly turned her head to look toward the sound. Her eyes widened. In a front window of one of the beautiful mansions, an elderly woman waved to her. Robin blinked several times to be sure she was not seeing things. The woman remained, smiling at her.
Robin looked around, but nothing else moved. She looked back at the house. The woman gestured for her to approach, before she vanished from the window. Robin drifted closer to the house, still looking out for anyone else. It could be a trap. Attract her attention to the house, while someone else came up behind her and struck.
Standing at the bottom of the porch steps, Robin waited for any movement from the house. With aloud click, the door unlocked and the door eased open a few inches. The woman’s head appeared in the small gap. Her white hair glowed with the hallway lights behind her.
“Are you alone, dear?”
Robin nodded.
“Come on in, sweetie.”
Robin blinked at her, but followed her directions. She climbed the stairs and slid past the small woman into the house. The door closed with a quick thud and a series of locks slid into place. Robin looked from the neat foyer to the woman who was smiling at her. Her manners reacted while her mind was still processing the situation.
“Hello, ma’am. I’m Dr. Robin Kay from Chicago.” Robin held out her hand.
The woman took her hand, her skin soft and paper-thin against Robin’s. “Mrs. May Winters, dear.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Winters. I appreciate you inviting me into your lovely home,” Robin returned, her mouth working on autopilot.
Mrs. Winters smiled, her blue eyes sparkling, as she gave Robin a once over.
“Would you like to take off your coat? I’ll put on some tea. Unless you prefer coffee?”
Robin smiled. “Anything, thank you.”
She shrugged off the rucksack and set it on the floor at her feet.
“You can put your coat in the closet, dear. Find me in the kitchen when you are finished.”
Robin watched Mrs. Winters point out the closet door and gesture down the hall to where the kitchen was located. Robin nodded and smiled.
“Thank you.”
She waited until the woman had tottered down the hallway to slip off her coat and hang it in the closet to the left of the door. Robin debated what to do with her bag, ultimately deciding to keep it with her. She tucked it under her arm and walked down the hall after Mrs. Winters. The runner carpet ended at the doorway to the kitchen.
Robin peeked through the doorway and smiled. A small table sat under a window that looked out onto a backyard filled with flowerbeds. It was probably a sea of flowers in the spring. Robin moved further into the room and looked around. White cabinets and a cheery daffodil motif filled the kitchen. Mrs. Winters stood at the sink looking out the window, as the kettle sat on the stove.
“Are you hungry, dear?”
“No, but thank you for asking.”
Mrs. Winters turned to face her. Her eyes went to the rucksack in Robin’s hand.
“I wasn’t sure where to put it,” Robin explained.
Mrs. Winters smiled. “Anywhere out of the way, is fine. I think our tea is almost ready.” Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe you would like to wash up a little?”
Robin looked down at her hands, dirt crusted under the nails. She mentally winced.
“Yes, thank you. That would be nice.”
“The powder room is just down the hall, second door on the right.”
Robin set her bag on the floor beside the table and hurried to wash her hands. The powder room was done in the same white and daffodil theme. Robin locked the door and ran a sink full of warm water. She pulled her shirt over her head and set about wiping the dirt from her face and arms. The water was murky by the time she had cleaned her upper body and scrubbed her hands. She let the water out and looked in the mirror.
Someone she barely recognized looked back at her. Her curls struggled to escape the braid that hung over her shoulder, the strands stiff with dust and mud. The dirt on her face had hidden the bruise on her right cheek, but with it gone she could clearly see the damage Addar’s people had done when they took the knife from her. The small cut on her temple was scabbed over.
Robin tucked some of her hair behind her ears and smoothed down the rest with water from the sink. She met her dark gaze in the mirror and almost winced at the look in her eyes. Exhaustion and a knowledge she had not possessed before. They were the eyes of someone who had her world shaken. Robin shut off the light and returned to the kitchen.
Mrs. Winters had laid out a tea service, complete with finger sandwiches. Robin took the empty seat and smiled at her hostess.
“Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Winters.”
“Good heavens, dear! What happened to your face?”
Robin paused in the act of sipping her tea and reached up to brush her fingertips along her bruised cheekbone.
“It looks worse than it is, I assure you.”
Mrs. Winters gave her a skeptical look, but nodded. “If you say so, sweetie.”
They sipped their tea in silence for several minutes, before the woman began to tell Robin about herself. Mrs. Winters was a widow with no children, only a nephew who visited twice a year. She had lived alone in her home since her husband had passed almost a decade before.
“Did you see the news?” Robin asked.
“My husband, Alfred, and I put too much into the house to abandon it.”
Robin nodded. “I understand.”
“Would you like to watch the TV?” Mrs. Winters asked when they had finished the tea.
“Are they still broadcasting?” Robin asked in surprise.
Mrs. Winters nodded. “One national news station. They have been posting updates about the meetings.”
Robin paused in the act of standing. “Meetings?”
“The president has been having talks with them.”
“The ones attacking us?”
Mrs. Winters nodded, her lips pursing at the mention of the invaders.
“How is it going? Do they think an agreement can be reached?” Robin asked, carrying the tea tray to the counter.
“You are welcome to watch the TV, dear. Last I heard a draft was in the works.”
“The draft?”
&
nbsp; Mrs. Winters gaze moved from the dishes to Robin’s face. “I’m sure the talks will work out.”
Robin looked away. She was not so sure. If every attack had been as successful as the attack on the base, it was likely the country’s military would be severely depleted. A draft would be not only possible, but likely, if the talks failed. She shuddered at the thought of untrained civilians being used to fight against the invaders. It would be wholesale slaughter.
“Come on, dear.”
Robin followed Mrs. Winters into the front parlor where a sofa and armchair faced an old console TV set. She sat on the sofa, while the older woman turned on the set and settled into the chair. Robin watched her pick up a set of knitting needles from the basket next to her and begin to knit what looked like a hat.
“We come to you directly from the White House where the President is engaged in peace talks.”
Robin turned her attention to the TV to see a stern looking man standing outside the gate of the White House.
“Unlike most places in the nation, the capital has been left largely untouched. Experts believe this is a sign that the invading force seeks some form of peace.”
Robin frowned. She was not aware there were alien invasion experts.
“With some states experiencing a casualty rate of over ninety percent, the talks have taken on an air of desperation.” The man looked to his right, out of the frame.
The screen split to show a woman and man sitting behind a desk in a studio on the left side and the distracted reporter on the right.
“What’s going on there, Alan?” the man at the desk asked.
The reporter turned his attention back to the camera. “We have movement on the street.”
A moment later, he was drowned out by the sound of screaming. The camera swung to the reporter’s right and showed Pennsylvania Avenue. Hundreds of people stampeded down the street toward them. In the background, a mass of writhing darkness enveloped the stragglers. Robin leaned back on the couch, as the people raced past the camera.
“Alan? What’s going on?” the woman behind the desk demanded.
The camera swung back to the reporter, Alan, to show his pale face and wide eyes. He continued to stare at the coming threat, not acknowledging the woman’s question. The camera turned back to the crowd. As the mass sprinted past them, Robin noticed some of the people were limping and splattered in blood.
Someone screamed and the camera zoomed in on the blackness. The mass of darkness moved like coiling snakes. As the camera rolled, one of the civilians was snatched from the ground and lifted high into the air. With a piercing shriek, the woman was swallowed by the darkness. A moment later, her body was thrown forward into the fleeing crowd. She landed on the pavement with a sickening crunch.
Robin gasped, shoving herself back against the couch. It was like a nightmare, darkness given the power to kill. The shadows consumed anyone who fell behind, until they drew level with the camera. The camera turned back toward the White House, but the reporter was gone.
“Get out of there, Dave!” the man at the desk yelled.
The camera continued to roll. The darkness moved past the cameraman to reveal two men. The shadows seemed to come from them, seeping from their pale gray skin. One of the men looked directly at the camera and his black eyes sparkled. He smiled. The other man walked past him and he let him go. Once he was past, the man approached the camera at a slow predatory pace.
The weak sunlight glinted off his elongated canines as he stalked toward the cameraman. A creeping tendril of darkness broke away from the rest to slither toward the camera. Robin covered her ears against the screaming. It only stopped when the TV shut off. Robin’s gaze darted to Mrs. Winters’ pinched expression.
“I’m not sure about the success of those peace talks,” she murmured, still staring at the TV.
Robin cleared her throat and tried not to shiver. “I agree.”
…
“It is my understanding that one of the humans knows of our biology.”
Addar paused just inside the doors and fixed his eyes on the figure at the head of the table. He ignored the others.
“I assume the peace talks had the result you anticipated,” Addar said.
He walked past the others who sat along the table to take his place on the high commander’s right. Addar could feel the weight of their gazes.
“Who is the human?”
Addar turned to the assassin who had spoken with a dangerous smile. “I was not aware you were given leave to speak.”
“Scout,” the high commander said.
Addar turned back to him in time to see the assassin receive a warning glare. “A scientist. No one of importance.”
“And you did not neutralize the threat?” the commander demanded.
He had to tread lightly. Addar raised his chin. “She has been driven from her home by humans and has likely died.”
“Likely?”
Addar did not comment, meeting the high commander’s gray eyes.
“See to it that the human dies.”
The gazes on him grew heavier. Addar nodded. “As you say.”
Chapter Thirty
“Do you have a fella, sweetie?”
Robin looked away from the window to stare at Mrs. Winters. The older woman was sitting in the parlor’s only armchair. She had her knitting in her lap. At the feel of Robin’s gaze, she looked up to smile.
“No, not really,” Robin finally said.
Mrs. Winters went back to her knitting. “A pretty girl like you?”
“My work receives most of my time and energy. I’m very busy.”
The woman looked up at her. “Too busy to fall in love?”
Robin turned away from the window. “I suppose so.”
Mrs. Winters tsked. “Oh, sweetie. You have to make time for these things. So, there is no one?”
Robin started to say ‘no’ and paused. Her mind flashed to Addar. It was insane to even consider him as her fella. Yet, she found her mind catching on the thought of him and refusing to let go.
“What is he like? This gentleman of yours?”
“I-I’m not sure what to tell you.”
Mrs. Winters finished up with the hat she was knitting and set the garment aside. “What’s his name?”
“Addar,” Robin murmured.
“And what does he do?”
Robin almost choked. “He…he’s in acquisitions.”
Mrs. Winters nodded with a smile. “That sounds lovely, dear. Have you been together long?”
“A while.”
Robin picked up the book of crosswords from the end table and sat down on the sofa. Confusing feelings aside, Addar was not her fella. Sure, his kisses made her feel like she was about to burst into flames and the way he looked at her sometimes made her feel like the most important person in the world, but it was all wrong. Everything was wrong.
She circled a word on the crossword hard enough for the pen to tear the page. She looked up to make sure Mrs. Winters had not noticed. If the kind woman ever found out about her part in the current mess, she would be out on the street before she could blink.
“George from the market should be by in an hour or so.”
Robin frowned. “Who?”
“He delivers my groceries, dear. Since all of this nastiness started, he has been bringing me canned food from the back room of his store.”
Before Robin could ask for more information, a tapping came from the back of the house.
“That’ll be him. Be a dear, would you?”
Robin set aside the crossword and stood hesitantly. The tapping came again, a bit harder than before. She hurried down the hall to the kitchen and paused.
A man, no older than thirty, stood on the back porch. He held a paper bag in his hands. His blue eyes widened when she came close enough for him to see her. Robin turned the lock and the man rushed inside, quickly closing the door behind him. He set the bag on the table and turned to look at her.
“
Hi.”
Robin returned his smile. “Hello. You must be George.”
“That’s me. Is Mrs. Winters here?”
“Parlor.”
“Great.” George started to walk past her and paused. “Where are my manners?” he held out a hand and Robin took it.
“Dr. Robin Kay,” she supplied.
His smile widened. “A doctor, huh? That’s pretty impressive.”
Robin could not help but smile back. “Thank you.”
She followed George through the house to the front room. Robin hovered in the doorway, while George approached Mrs. Winters.
“Oh, George. I thought that was you.” Mrs. Winters glanced at Robin. “Did you meet Dr. Kay?”
George turned his head to look at her, his dark hair flopping over his forehead. “Sure did.”
Mrs. Winters tsked. “Now, George. Don’t you go looking at Dr. Kay. She’s taken.”
Robin gave the two of them a slight smile and moved away to give them some privacy. She stood by the window and looked out at the street. In the early hours of morning, it had begun to snow. Two minutes after seven, there was already a thin blanket of snow covering the street. It was pristine. No tire tracks to mar it.
“Is that alright with you, Dr. Kay?”
Robin looked over her shoulder. “I beg your pardon?”
Mrs. Winters smiled. “George needs a little help. He is going to search the neighborhood for canned goods.”
Robin raised her eyebrows. “What about the grocery store?”
“Well…” George cleared his throat.
“Ah, I see. Stores only carry enough for a week. Without the supply trucks running…” Robin sighed.
“You’ll help?” George asked.
Robin ignored the blush on his cheeks. She turned to Mrs. Winters and nodded. “I would be happy to help.”
“That’s wonderful, dear.”
“Are you ready?”
Robin nodded. “Just let me get my coat.”
George was already waiting at the back door when she stepped into the kitchen. He gave her little wave and gestured to the door. Robin followed him out into the light snowfall.
