Darkest Days

by N. W. Harris

  The clone looked at him with sleepy and unconcerned eyes.

  “I need to relieve myself,” Pelros whispered.

  The clone nodded and rose to his feet. He led him to the edge of the light, facing him into the dark curtain that stood like a wall between the camp and the wintry night beyond. Because of the bright light shining down on him, the darkness beyond seemed thick and impenetrable.

  Pelros glanced over his shoulder at the clone and gave an embarrassed smile, shaking his bound hands behind his back and gesturing with a nod.

  “Yes,” the clone said, blinking his eyes wearily.

  He released one of Pelros’ hands, keeping his other arm behind his back and raised so he could control him and prevent his escaping. Pelros stepped closer to the darkness. When he pulled, the clone followed. His face passed out of the light, and he blinked his eyes to see what lay beyond. His eyes had not adjusted, and he couldn’t see a thing.

  He relieved himself into the darkness, raising his head and leaning back as he did. His face in the light again, he peered behind him. The human guard on the other side of the camp was facing him. When he saw Pelros staring back, he turned away, as if to give the prisoner a second of privacy while he went to the bathroom. Pelros saw the clone behind him turn his head to see what he was looking at. When he did, he loosened his grip on Pelros’ left arm.

  Pelros swung his right arm behind him and hooked the clone’s elbow. He leaned to the same side and twisted, bringing the guard off balance. Once his opponent was moving, Pelros rotated his body faster and flung them both out of the light and into the darkness.

  With lightning speed he’d worried he couldn’t muster because of his injury, Pelros rammed his pointed fingers into the clone’s throat. The spear-hand attack found its soft target, crushing his windpipe. Pelros dropped his elbow into the clone’s temple, using a twist of his core to put every bit of his weight into his enemy’s skull.

  He pushed himself off the clone, ready to hit him again if needed. His opponent lay motionless. A faint wheeze told Pelros his lungs couldn’t move air through his crushed larynx, and a gurgle meant the unconscious clone began to drown in his own blood.

  Pelros leapt to his feet and ran. He saw the beam of light and the glowing city on top of the Pegasus to the south, and his eyes began to adjust so he could make out a bridge ahead. The enemy would expect him to take the bridge; it appeared to be the most direct route to his ship.

  A shout came from the camp behind him, and he dug deep for every bit of strength left in his body. He ran as fast as he could, darting under the bridge and down the hill to the road below. Each footfall sent a shockwave of pain away from the gash in his side, but he didn’t slow down. Falling, he rolled to the bottom of the slope. He cursed and pushed his bruised body to his feet. Rushing to a large vehicle in the road, he climbed into the open cargo box on the back.

  Slowing his breathing, he hid in the shadows and listened for pursuers. He was sick of being held by the human kids and decided he’d fight to the death before being taken again.

  “It’s too damn dark,” one of the humans shouted. It sounded like he was on the bridge above Pelros.

  “He would’ve headed straight down the freeway,” another voice said. That one sounded like the girl called Tracy.

  “Is it even worth chasing him?” a male human asked.

  “If he makes it back to the ship, he’ll warn them of our approach.” He recognized Jones’ voice.

  “I reckon they already know we’re coming,” another human said. “Maurice is right. It’s not worth chasing him.”

  They walked off the bridge and back toward the camp, the sounds of their conversation fading. Pelros waited, wanting to be certain they hadn’t set a trap for him. It was what he would’ve done, acting like he’d given up the search only to leave a few soldiers silently watching to see if the prisoner would come out of a nearby hiding place.

  He waited as long as he could, antsy to get away from the humans and back to his ship. When he did make his move, he slipped out of the cargo bay of the large vehicle and stayed under the bridge until he was on the other side of the wide road. Using a low concrete wall for cover, he walked down the road. It led him at an angle away from the Pegasus. It would make his journey back to the ship longer, but the indirect route reduced the chance of his being recaptured.

  Once he got away from the bridge, the road went up high enough for him to see the Pegasus. Pelros could see the column of light shining down on the humans who’d held him captive. The green alien who had crippled his ship seemed to be in charge. It only shined light on his people and this group of humans. It drove them south toward a collision with the Pegasus.

  If the ship had power, this small army of humans wouldn’t pose much of a threat. But he had to assume the Pegasus had been crippled like his transport. The enemy the humans called Greenie had implied the humans would punish the Anunnaki, and he assumed it was these humans, guided by the rebel Jones and his clones that the green entity was talking about.

  He tried to think of a way to stop the humans, to cripple them before they could get to the recruit ship, but there wasn’t much he could do alone. The best course he could think of was to get to his people and warn them about the humans’ approach, though he guessed they’d already seen the light shining down and had an idea that something was headed their way.

  Pelros crawled through a hole in the fence that bordered the wide road. Satisfied he was far enough away from his captors, he headed straight toward the Pegasus. She stood tall and proud, aglow with the bright light shining down on her from the sky. The ship dwarfed the tallest buildings in the humans’ primitive city. He imagined that even without power, she would act as a fortress that the humans would not be able to overrun.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “You okay?” Shane stepped next to Jones, who stood over the corpse of the clone the escaping prisoner had killed.

  “It saddens me,” Jones replied. “I know it may seem strange to outsiders, but these clones are my children. I have strong feelings for each of them.”

  “Doesn’t seem strange to me at all,” Shane replied. He watched the sunlight-bathed camp. He felt a strong connection to all the kids he was responsible for, even the ones he barely knew.

  “I wonder if it occurred to him,” Jones said quietly, “that he was essentially killing his own brother.”

  There was subtle pain in the captain’s gruff voice. He put his hand on Jones’ shoulder.

  “Not sure he ever thought of any of us as more than just another enemy,” Shane replied.

  “I thought he was coming around,” Jones said. He gazed south, toward the massive, pyramid-shaped ship. “But now I see I was just being manipulated. It is what he was trained to do, and he did it well. I was a fool for not being more cautious.”

  “Can’t blame yourself,” Shane replied. “This is war. There will be casualties.” He hated how callous he sounded.

  “Listen to you,” Jones said. “You’ve grown up so much since we first recruited you from that farmhouse after you shut down the limbic manipulator.”

  Jones sounded proud, like he was speaking to one of his own children. Shane’s eyes moistened at the affection in Jones’ gaze, but it also made him feel a little sick to his stomach. He had a terrible premonition that Jones and his clones would be killed by Greenie, along with the rest of the Anunnaki. There was no way he’d be able to stop the powerful alien if it decided to take the captain.

  He glanced up at the dark sky, hoping Greenie watched now. The glowing alien seemed to hate the Anunnaki and believe they had no redeemable qualities. If Greenie could see how the death of Jones’ clone affected him and could see how much the captain cared for Shane and the other humans he’d trained, then maybe it wouldn’t be so quick to stereotype all Anunnaki as evil slave mongers.

  “The light,” Jones said, any tenderness in his growly voice replaced with sudden urgency. “It’s fading.”

  “Damn it,”
Shane said.

  He took three steps, passing out of the darkness and into the ring of warm light bathing the camp. It lost some of its brightness, but wasn’t fading as fast as it had before. He expected Greenie was giving them a few extra minutes to gather themselves before it was lights out for good, or at least until the looming conflict with the Anunnaki had ended to Greenie’s satisfaction.

  He didn’t need to tell the kids to pack up; they’d noticed the light growing dimmer and were rushing about to get ready to move on. A suffocating cloud of fear hung over everyone. They knew the fight against the Anunnaki was imminent; they knew many of them would die. Shane wished he could leave them all here and go down to face the Anunnaki alone. Why did Greenie need more humans to suffer? They’d paid their dues with enough blood to drown any Anunnaki remaining on the ship on the other side of Atlanta.

  “The little ones can stay here,” Kelly said, her eyes glazed.

  “What?” Shane took her arm. What she said stunned him; it was like she’d read his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  “You may leave the little ones here,” she repeated. “They will not be harmed.”

  Her eyes cleared, and she blinked several times, swaying in his grasp.

  “Wow,” she said. “Felt like I passed out for a second.”

  “I think Greenie just spoke through you,” Shane replied.

  “Creepy,” she said, shivering. “What did it say?”

  “You,” he paused, “well, it said we can leave the little ones here. It said they’d be safe.”

  “That’s a blessing,” she replied, sounding relieved. “I didn’t want Nat to have to face whatever we are up against.”

  “Yeah, I was just worrying about how we’d watch out for them if it comes to a fight,” he said, feeling creeped out, “and then you answered my concerns. It’s like Greenie is reading our minds.”

  “When it comes to a fight,” Jules added. She’d slipped up behind him without his noticing. Maurice was on her heels, carrying a length of rope and looking concerned.

  “How are you guys feeling?” Shane asked.

  “I don’t feel like killing Jones, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jules replied. “Yet.”

  “Yeah.” Kelly rubbed her head. “I’m not losing my memory like before.”

  “Still quite a bit of light left,” Maurice observed. “Not to sound pessimistic.”

  “Let me know if you feel your memory fading,” Shane said to Kelly, then to Jules, “Or if you feel like killing Jones or his people.”

  “I’ll stay with them,” Maurice said.

  Shane nodded at the squat preacher’s son and turned his attention to the rest of the kids.

  “Listen up,” he shouted. “Everyone twelve years old and younger is going to stay here. The rest of you will be leaving with us in ten minutes.”

  The kids looked at him for a moment, then fell into chatter among themselves as they continued getting ready. He could only hope Greenie would accept his cutoff for the kids who would stay and those who would go. The light grew brighter again, which he took as a sign of approval. He and Kelly walked to the area where the little kids were gathered. She went to her sister, and he found Rebecca, the red-haired girl who’d taken the lead in caring for the children when Laura wasn’t around.

  “Are you sure they can stay?” Rebecca said. She’d clearly grown attached to the children. “What happens if it hurts them?”

  “Greenie spoke through Kelly,” Shane replied. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll leave the kids here under the light.”

  “But what if?” she persisted.

  “If anything happens,” he replied, looking at the children, “you’ll have to get it together and move south after us. But judging by the light, I think you’ll be fine.”

  Several of the wide-eyed children nodded. Rebecca pursed her lips in reluctance and her brow furrowed with concern, but she nodded, accepting his decision.

  He saw Kelly hugging Nat. Tears streamed down the little girl’s face, the pain of being separated from her sister once again too much to bear.

  “You will be going with us,” Petrov said, his voice filled with impatient anger. “This is no time for cowardice.”

  Shane trotted over to where the big Russian stood, addressing a group of kids he guessed were right around the cutoff age he’d chosen.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked, surveying their terrified faces.

  “Why don’t the kids who are twelve have to go?” A skinny, dark-haired boy with wide green eyes asked. “We’re just thirteen. We shouldn’t have to go either.”

  “You’re old enough to fight,” Shane replied, hating that he had to send these terrified kids into battle. “If you try to stay here, Greenie will kill you.”

  “We’re kids,” the boy pleaded, speaking for eight other wet-eyed children behind him. “We ain’t old enough to fight. We shouldn’t have to.”

  “You must find your courage,” Petrov growled.

  Shane put his hand on the Russian’s arm to calm him.

  “Look,” Shane said to them. He tried to sound kind, sympathetic to their fear. But he also wanted to make sure they understood there was no other option. “None of us are old enough to fight, but we don’t have a choice. If you stay here, you will die. Now pull yourselves together. Do I make myself clear?”

  He spun away before they had a chance to respond. Rage boiled in him. He wasn’t angry at the kids for not wanting to fight. He was angry at Greenie and at the Anunnaki. It wasn’t fair. These kids were innocent. They’d done nothing to warrant losing their parents and being forced into a war they couldn’t win.

  Grabbing his weapon and his pack, Shane headed to the south side of the circle of light. He surveyed the camp. Rebecca had recruited some other teenagers to corral the younger kids toward the opposite side of the sunny ring and make sure they had enough food.

  Steve, Tracy, Kelly, Jules, and Maurice trotted toward him. He didn’t need to tell them when he was about to give the order to move out. They knew it just by looking at him.

  Anfisa signaled to Petrov and the other Russians, and they moved to join Shane’s team. Jones and a couple of his clones headed over as well.

  Shane tried to develop his play, a strategy, and tactics for the mission. He’d led other kids through a lot since the last time he was in Atlanta. His team and the Russians were combat veterans, and all the kids had been through enough hell to make them strong or drive them mad.

  “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,” Steve said.

  “Quoting Shakespeare? Wow. You’re so much smarter than you look,” Petrov teased.

  “Wish I could say the same for you,” Steve returned with a playful smile.

  Their quick banter calmed Shane, and he could see it mellowed everyone else out too.

  “We’ll take the point and forward flanks,” Shane said to his team. “Anfisa, can you take your team and lead up the rear?”

  “No problem,” she replied. “What do we do if any of them try to stay behind?” She thumbed at the thirteen-year-old kids who’d just pleaded their case to Shane and Petrov.

  “We can’t let them,” Shane replied. “It’ll jeopardize the safety of the children.”

  “Understood,” Anfisa replied, her expression steely.

  He worried her solution for forcing them to come along might be too harsh, but he didn’t have the time to micromanage her.

  “Captain Jones.” Shane glanced at Jules, and then back at the captain. “Please have your people stay on the right side of the group. Jules, you’ll be on the left flank.”

  “Good idea,” Jules agreed, still appearing in full control. “Maurice should probably stay near me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Maurice said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I got you, girl.”

  “Okay, my friends,” Shane said, smiling at each of them. “Let’s do this.”

  Steve and Shane clapped like they used to when they’d break huddle in fo
otball, and they headed to their positions around the perimeter of their small army. The kids in the middle saw them and seemed to sense it was time to go. All eyes were on Shane. He had to say something, give that speech everyone deserved before going on the field. But he didn’t know what lay ahead. He was at a loss for words.

  “We can’t lie to ourselves. It’s probably going to get really ugly down there,” Shane said. Gazing at their dirty faces, he felt sick wondering if any of them would survive. He wanted to reassure them, to tell them it would be all right, but he knew they deserved the truth. “Some of us may be killed. I know that’s a scary notion, but if we go out there and fight as a team like we aren’t afraid to die, some of us will survive. If we don’t go, Greenie will kill us all.”

  With nothing left to say, he stood there before them. It was the least inspirational speech he could imagine, but he hated sugarcoating. No one cheered or nodded in agreement. They just stared at him. However, no one objected either, so he could only assume his depressing spiel had served its purpose.

  Shane turned his back to the kids, facing the darkness. On his left, Kelly gave him a grin. Her expression was otherwise pained. He could see the separation from Nat weighed heavy on her heart. He planned to keep her close. She’d tell him if she felt Greenie wiping her memories again, then he’d know he had to protect Jones and the clones from Jules. For now, he didn’t want to keep Jules bound. The tall, powerful girl was too good a warrior to have her arms restrained. She could be the difference, the one who tipped the scale to victory in a battle.

  Shane stepped out of the warmth and into the freezing night. The moon showed brightly overhead, and his eyes adjusted to the white light by the time he walked to the base of the bridge a hundred yards away. He climbed the bridge, looking over at Kelly.