by Patti Larsen
“I knew it!” Drew reaches over and punches Milo in the arm. The smaller boy rubs the sore spot and scowls at his grinning friend.
“You did?” Relief is welcome. They won’t shun him after all. Although the look on Leila’s face is suddenly so lost and grief-stricken Reid wishes he hadn’t spoken at all.
“There’s no way they are human.” Drew shoves his glasses back with one finger, head bobbing in his excitement. “They move too fast. Those claws they’ve got! Their eyes…” he shudders. “And that howl. Like an animal.”
Reid finds himself nodding. “Then what the hell are they?”
“Alien invasion.” Milo groans at that and even Leila rolls her eyes and offers a ghost of a smile. But Drew is adamant. “What else could they be?”
Reid is as skeptical as the others, but doesn’t have an answer.
“Dude, you watch too many movies.” Milo doesn’t sound convinced.
“I’m telling you,” Drew goes on, his excitement obvious, “it’s got to be an invasion. Some kind of foothold situation.”
“Then why the fence?” Reid gets the impression this is an old argument because Leila has looked away from them, lost in her thoughts. At the word fence she swivels her attention back to him.
“What fence?” Milo is the first one to ask, his voice squeaking out at the end of the word.
“Big, metal, deathly electric.” Reid looks from face to face. They obviously have no idea what he is talking about. “I was following it for a while, but had to stop.”
They are all quiet for a bit as they process this.
Reid gives them a little time before telling them about the two men and how easily the hunters took them down, weapons or no weapons. They are visibly shaken.
“It’s hopeless, then.” Milo shudders out a sob. “No one can save us.”
“We already knew that.” Drew tries for tough but Reid sees right through him, hearing the tears the boy chokes off. “We’re on our own out here.”
Leila is silent, eyes on the ground, her whole body still. “How did they get in?”
Reid is impressed with her. “The fence.”
Drew’s glasses flash as he turns his head to refocus on Reid. “There’s no way,” he says. “If it’s electric, like you say, it would have killed them getting over.”
“Somehow they did it,” Reid snaps back. Drew shrinks from him and Reid instantly feels guilty. “I don’t know how,” he says, gentler this time and Drew relaxes. “But I mean to find out.”
“Do you really think we can get out?” There is no hope in Leila’s voice. Only the same calm and quiet she has shown him all along.
Reid doesn’t answer her.
“Why would someone fence us in?” Leila looks so tormented by this new information Reid wishes he kept this information to himself.
“Maybe they are specimens,” Drew says, still clinging to his alien theory. “Being tested or something.”
“More like we are,” Reid mutters.
“That’s the lamest ass thing I’ve ever heard.” Milo turns away from Drew. Lost to his usual audience, the chubby boy turns his attention to Reid.
“What do you think?”
It’s a moment before Reid answers. In the meantime Leila and Milo focus on him. Reid thinks about it, considers what Drew said before shrugging his shoulders forward when the truth of the whole thing rolls through him.
“I think it doesn’t matter all that much,” he says, finally admitting it to himself. Answers aren’t what he needs. He doesn’t care anymore. Reid just wants to get away.
The others are silent. Reid shifts positions at last, breaking the quiet, his head aching and body unable to rise.
“So what now?” He hadn’t meant to ask them, the question more aimed at himself than the others, but Drew speaks up.
“We don’t know.” He exchanges glances with first Milo, then Leila. “The fence thing sounds good.”
Reid slumps sideways, his eyes so heavy he can barely focus. “Yeah,” he says, stumbling over his words, “it does.”
A cool hand touches his cheek, long hair tickling his ear as Leila bends over him.
“Get some rest,” she whispers. “We’ll watch over you until it gets dark. Then we’ll decide what to do.”
He fights the exhaustion, still not trusting completely, but his body doesn’t give him a choice. Reid is dragged under and into sleep.
He surfaces briefly, twice. The first time he jerks awake from a horrible dream he can’t recall and falls right back into unconsciousness. The second time he wakes to heated whispers, but even that can’t keep him up for long.
When he wakes the third time, he instantly notices the utter quiet. Reid sits up, bones and muscles crying out in protest, but he ignores them as he looks quickly around.
He is alone. His heart clenches, stomach a solid knot of rage. They left him, abandoned him there after they promised they would watch over him. She promised.
So much for trust.
A howl echoes nearby. Reid freezes, his anger running out of him, shoved aside by terror. A flicker makes it through, the thought that they set him up to save themselves, but he has no time to let it trouble him. Fear shoves him toward the gap and out into the night. He has slept the day away, his only consolation. And yet, if that rest gets him killed, it will have done him little good.
Reid eases down the hill toward the thicker trees, all senses wide open and alert. He waits for another call to reach him, but none comes. Reid finds the head of a path into the trees and runs for it.
He slams right into Leila. She falls back but he catches her, holds her up until she has her balance again. She looks up into his eyes, hers full of the terror they share.
“Hurry!” Her whisper is a hissed command. She turns without another word and runs down the trail. Reid follows right on her footsteps, keeping up with her easily. She leads him on a winding run through the trees, dodging the path over and over. He realizes she too understands the value of avoiding straight lines.
She stops once, alert and frightened. Reid waits with her, heart in his throat, as a shuffling black shape snorts its way through the forest. Panic gives way to more ordinary fear as the black bear fixes them with its shining dark eyes. Rather than attacking, it growls gently before plodding off into the dark.
Leila rests against a tree, her breath easing out of her. When her eyes meet his, she smiles. “If this wasn’t so horrible, that would have been amazing.”
He finds himself smiling back. “I’m sorry.” The words blurt out of him. “I thought you left me behind.”
She is quiet for a long time before shrugging her shoulders once. “We did,” she says. “But I had to come back for you.”
Reid’s blood, once warmed by her friendship, runs cold again. “Why is that?”
“Who knows,” she says, moving off, “maybe we need you after all.” She stops, turns, looks at him. “Are you coming?”
He wants to say no. They betrayed him, left him to die. Why should he? But he can’t bring himself to be alone again. Instead, he follows her into the forest while he builds walls around his budding trust and compassion.
***
Chapter Fifteen
It isn’t long before they catch up with Drew and Milo. Both boys look guilty, refusing to meet Reid’s eyes. He ignores them, turning instead to the two other kids huddled nearby.
“This is Carly and Trey.” The girl Carly is so skinny it hurts Reid to look at her, her gigantic dark eyes pleading for someone, anyone, to save her. Stringy hair sways around her as she shivers in the cool of the night. The boy Trey’s skin is lighter than Milo’s, his body taller. He has a constant twitch in one cheek. Reid wonders if it’s new since he was dumped here.
“We have to go.” Leila glances over her shoulder. She doesn’t have to say it twice.
Reid takes the lead without thinking about it, so accustomed to being alone he barely considers what the pecking order might be in the little group. But when he gla
nces back at them no one complains. In fact, if anything, they look relieved.
Which makes him uncomfortable. He’s no leader and tells himself he’d better speak up about it the next time they stop for a rest.
Reid heads off at an angle toward his best guess. His eastward path is leading him away from the fence and he needs to get back to it. He hates to recover old ground, but has little choice. All of his private hope rests on finding where the two men came through. He doesn’t allow himself anything else.
Reid does his best to head west, but about an hour or so into their stumbling jog he checks the moon. For the first time his sense of direction seems to have deserted him somewhat. He can tell he’s off course, heading more south, and swears at himself a little. Then shrugs. He can only imagine they are surrounded by fence. Not like it matters how they get to it as long as they do.
Reid checks on the kids behind him. He is surprised he is alone. Have they abandoned him again? He fights down a surge of fury as he spots Trey emerging through the trees. Carly stumbles along with him, hunched over almost in half. Leila struggles beside the girl, one hand on her elbow, the other on her back. When they join Reid, Leila’s pale eyes lift to his. Her anger sends him back a step.
“Thanks for waiting.” Leila looks away, returning her attention to the skinny girl next to her. Carly gasps for air, mewing whimpers filled with despair cutting Reid to the bone. He shoves remorse aside as Milo half-jogs, half-drags himself to a halt next to Trey.
“Where’s Drew?” Reid is troubled and more than a little guilty. He should be more careful. He didn’t even think to check if they were keeping up. The survivor in him is disgusted and wants to abandon them, as weak as they are. He shoves that aside, too. Like it or not, he chose to run with them and he won’t change his mind unless they give him a good reason.
“Here.” Drew drops out of the dark, collapsing at Reid’s feet, his glasses fogged from perspiration. The boy’s face is flushed and slick with sweat, obvious even in the dark.
Reid silently examines himself and is pleased to discover that aside from hunger and thirst, he is feeling okay. Strong even. The food he found is sustaining him. For now.
“We need a break.” Leila helps Carly sit down. Reid’s urgency tugs at him while the rest try to catch their breath.
“I’ll scout ahead.” He leaves them there before anyone can protest and moves on. He can’t bring himself to sit still, not after two days of running and with the possibility of freedom so close.
The trees thin ahead, so he slows his pace. The moon is high by then, the still cloudless sky full of sparkling stars. Reid feels a grin break over his face as he looks out across the small, glittering lake below. There is a brief but steep decline to reach it but he knows he can handle it without a problem.
His thirst is so strong he almost moves on without the others. With a groan of denial, he turns and goes to get them.
“Water,” he says when he reaches them, still sprawled on the ground. He doesn’t have to say anything else. They are up and moving immediately.
It’s not long before they stand on the lip of the cliff looking down. Drew makes a soft sound and shuffles his feet, sending a slide of small rocks down the decline.
“I can’t.” His fingers shove his glasses back on his face with such fierceness Reid is startled.
“We’ll help you,” Leila says.
But Drew shakes his head and backs away. “Heights,” he says. “I just can’t.”
Reid doesn’t think, only trusts his instincts. He bypasses the others, seizing Drew and throwing him over his shoulder. A brief shriek escapes the boy, quickly silenced, but the sound carries into the forest.
Reid slides down the steep slope and is on the bottom within seconds. He sets Drew down on his own two feet and looks up at the others.
“I don’t want to hear can’t,” he says.
The rest of the kids descend more slowly, but make it safely to the bottom. Reid leads them to the water, studying the surroundings carefully. Like the stream, he knows this could be a perfect trap opportunity for the hunters, but the call of the lake is too strong to resist.
Reid waits for the others to drink, instinctively watching over them. A fierce surge of protectiveness races through him even while he wars with his mind. He is faster than them, stronger. It would be easier to simply leave them here and go on alone. They are pathetic and weak. But they are human like him, kids like him and being with them helps remind him of his humanity.
When Milo steps back, Reid falls to his knees and plunges his face into the cold water. It is as icy as the stream but calm and, remembering his first experience, he takes his time.
He requires a great number of mouthfuls to slake his thirst, but when he is done, Reid takes another moment to rinse and fill the bottle, tucking it away into the side pocket of his stolen pants. He is about to rise when he hears a cry and a splash, and jerks around to look.
Someone is in the water, thrashing around. Reid runs to the spot and finds Milo gesturing at Drew.
“Swim back!” Milo makes unhelpful motions with his hands, like it does any good. Drew goes under before glugging his way back to the surface. His glasses and braces shine in the moonlight, but he remains silent in his distress.
“What happened?” Reid freezes with indecision.
“It’s deeper than it looks.” Leila is there next to him, panic in her face. “Drew, swim!”
“He fell in.” Milo is crying. “It’s my fault. I wanted to know how deep it was.”
Trey and Carly huddle together and refuse to look, faces buried in each other’s shoulders.
Drew goes down again. Reid knows he needs to let the boy drown. He can’t risk getting sick or hypothermic in a rescue attempt. The water is just too cold. But he is already shedding his sneakers and socks, handing the water bottle to Leila. He dives in before his logical thoughts can stop him.
The shock of the water temperature is almost enough to drive him under. Reid gasps at the cold, but forces himself to stroke forward, reaching Drew with little effort. The boy latches onto him instantly, his panic making him a horrible weight with tearing hands and thrashing feet. Reid fights to calm the boy, but knows sound travels over water and can’t risk talking him down.
It is a grim and silent battle, one that quickly wears Reid out. He has gone under so many times because of Drew’s fear, he knows one more will be the end of them both. Reid does the only thing he can do. He puts both hands on the boy’s shoulders and shoves him under the water, holding him there.
Drew battles as hard as he can but soon weakens, his panicked energy almost run out. Reid waits two more heartbeats before letting the boy rise to the surface. Drew does, choking out water, eyes huge behind glasses he’s managed to hang onto through it all.
“You have to stop fighting me.” Reid risks that whisper. “Drew, stop.”
Drew chokes on some more water. His teeth chatter together and Reid knows his own are close behind. His legs are numb from the cold, hands on fire in it. They don’t have much time left.
Drew nods at last, clinging but not struggling any longer. Reid turns, his weariness making him slow, and searches for the shore. He groans very softly as he realizes the edge is no longer reachable.
In the course of their struggle, they have drifted far from the others. Reid turns them around, paddling gently to avoid more sound and conserve his strength. All around them is only more water. Until he turns west. There is the opposite bank, still far but the closest of any. Reid draws a breath and strikes out.
The water is heavy on his limbs, Drew’s weight pulling him down. He feels the boy’s legs moving and knows he is trying to help but has to stop. It’s throwing Reid off kilter. “Don’t do that,” he whispers. Drew’s arms tighten around his neck.
“Sorry.”
Reid reaches out again, legs kicking in slow rhythm. He has always been a good swimmer, a strong athlete, but the cold is seeping his strength from his body and he knows
they won’t make it. Like that matters. He still has to try.
Swimming becomes as automatic as running had, Reid’s mind drifting as he puts one arm in front of the other, over and over again. The shore is drawing nearer, but his vision blurs so he can’t tell how much closer. He can’t feel his body anymore, not even sure he is still swimming. Water slaps his face, goes in his mouth and he splutters and coughs on it. He can hear Drew breathing in his ear when he turns his head and the slosh of the waves he makes.
Reid is done. His arms won’t move any longer. His legs give out at the same time. He forgets why he was fighting so hard and lets himself slide under the water.
Something tugs at him, pulling him forward. Whispered voices say his name, his numb skin barely feeling it when his clothes are pulled free. His skin starts to return to life and he cries out, low and painful, the ache of warmth making him writhe in agony. When he finally registers contact, he almost pulls away from what holds him. It’s like he’s been plunged into fire. For a long time he simply whimpers and shivers, lying there, ready to die.
He is surprised when he opens his eyes at last and finds Leila looking down at him. She is holding him to her and they are draped with bits and pieces of clothing. He spots Milo and Drew in the same position while Carly and Trey huddle nearby, shivering in the night air, their jeans and sweaters the source of warmth that kept Reid alive.
“Drew,” he whispers.
“Fine,” Leila says. “You got the worst of it because you were swimming.”
He doesn’t have the strength to nod. “Didn’t think we’d make it.”
She hugs him. His tender skin protests, but he doesn’t tell her to stop.
“Me either,” she says. “That was amazing.”
Reid closes his eyes again. When he opens them, Drew is there. His glasses are missing and for the first time Reid sees his eyes. They are silvery in the moonlight.
