Salient Invaders
The Separation Trilogy
Felisha Antonette
Salient Invaders: The Separation Trilogy Book 2
Copyright © 2020 by Felisha Antonette
www.felishaantonette.com
Cover Design by Miblart
Edits by Novel and Kind
Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9971455-8-8
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
About the Author
Also by Felisha Antonette
Chapter One
Marc leaps back from a ferocious Sean, snapping at his ankle. He’s climbing and jerking to his knees, snarling as he prepares for his final attack on his brother. The two male Vojin approach them. Their color-infused silhouettes of latex-like flesh cross the mud as though the ground were clouds instead of slosh. Standing nearly seven feet, one lifts its hand to the sky, and the air stills, particles frozen midair. The other extends its hand to Sean.
Marc shoves the alien back as he stumbles away, managing to lug Sean’s transforming corpse and avoid his attacks.
The Vojin rips Marc from the ground, four fingers clutched around Marc’s neck as his feet dangle above the dirt. Sean hits the ground, head smacking a rock.
Marc struggles in the Vojin’s grasp, nails uselessly clawing at the flesh of his captor.
I gain a foot off the ground, and Luke yanks me back. “They are hurting him,” I snap under my breath, ripping my arm from his grip.
“Stand down, Ky,” he warns. “They’ll help, but you know they don’t take well to unnecessary retaliation.”
Unnecessary retaliation? We’re asking for something simple. Life!
The other Vojin, an exact replica of its counterpart, takes Sean’s head in his hand. Sean’s growling and snapping at the extraterrestrial being until a hush falls over the land. What feels like vibrations in the air start soft and grows heavier as Sean heals.
Where he was bitten, the torn muscle recoils as the skin stretches over the wound and seals. Blood is still smeared all over him, and his unconscious body is still in the Vojin’s grasp, but he’s healed. He’s okay.
The chirping of the crickets and heavy wind whipping through the tall hills return as the air stills.
Sean is dropped. He crumples and flops over onto his side.
Marc is tossed into the side of the hill, and the Vojin deteriorate into a fog of particles and sink into the circling pits before blowing away into the sky. We’re swallowed by the darkness of the desert, with only streaks of moonlight slicing through paths of the hills.
I’m at Marc’s side as he’s climbing to his feet. “Marc?”
He shoves me away, fists ramming into my chest. I stumble backward, almost tripping over bulging rocks. Taken aback by his roughness, I stall before trying again.
Upright and balanced, Marc holds me back with his fist jabbed firmly to the center of my chest.
“Marc, please? Hear me out,” I plead, though I struggle to sound strong.
He shoves me back again. I fall to the ground but quickly gather myself.
“Hey,” Luke shouts. “I know you’re angry, but stop pushing my sister.”
Marc meets my eyes as I rise. His purple eyes shine fiercely through his smudged goggles. I know the look he’s giving me very well, with his brows knit and eyes narrowing in on his new enemy, the urge to kill pounding in his chest as he considers the repercussions of doing just that. “Stay the hell away from me, Kylie,” he threatens, tone drowned in his husky rasp, now heavier than usual. Marc turns to his idle brother and helps him from the ground. With Sean stumbling at his side, he leads him back the way we came, never looking back.
I didn’t want him to save me over his twin. I didn’t ask for this. But Luke and I have done everything we can to help fix it. I realize being a mixed Creation—a Vojin—is the worst kind of betrayal, but I can explain. It’s not what he thinks.
“Just hear me out, Marc,” I call behind them.
With his back to me, he shakes his head, and when I step to go after him, Luke holds me back. “Let him go, Ky.”
I halt, tearing my gaze from Marc’s retreating frame. My fingertips have gone numb, legs are slightly shaking in my desire to pursue him, and a heavy feeling is growing in my chest. I don’t want to let him go. “That is so much easier said than done, Luke,” I groan.
Luke pulls off his goggles. Pursing his lips, there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he looks at me. “I know, Ky. But you’re the enemy now. Though I trust him to say nothing, he is not going to look at you the same.”
I flick my gaze to the stars, tears on the verge of spilling over. “But I am the same,” I whine quietly. This burn crawls up from my chest to my throat. “I’m the same girl I was yesterday.”
“Not to him. Not anymore.” Luke pats my back. “It’ll pass soon. Just keep your head in the game.” I pivot, and Luke quickly grabs me, whispering, “Wait.”
Whipping around the hills to where we stand, mystic blue and green particles circle us three times before finding a spot to rise and form the figure of a Vojin female. All the Vojin look identical, only their frame separates the males from the females. They possess no identifiers, like bushy eyebrows or wide noses. Standing shorter than the first two, she points to Luke and with an echoing tone says, “You have served your purpose for Kylie’s protection. It is time you stand back and allow her to develop as a human.”
“It is time you kiss my ass,” Luke barks. “She’s my sister. I’m not going to watch her get hurt for your amusement. We’re done playing.”
In a kind tone she says, “You protect each other, which is wise. These bodies that host you are in need of protection from the threats of this planet. However, for your destiny, should you be selected to reside on this planet in the future, it’s necessary for Kylie to possess the full experience of what it is like to be human: love, hate, passion, disgust, betrayal…” She goes on, listing out emotions humans have the pleasure of embracing fro
m birth to old age.
I cut her off, jabbing a pointed finger against my chest. “I have those down.”
“You’re knowledgeable of these feelings, but you are required to experience them firsthand, Kylie.”
I squint my eyes. “We don’t need you to come here, telling us how to do our job.”
Nodding, she says, “Just remember who’s in control. You as the implant? Or the host?”
I snatch my helmet and gun from the ground before turning my back on her. “I know who’s in charge,” I mumble under my breath, not exactly sure if I still want it to be me the host or me the implanter.
Chapter Two
1 Month Later
With the Normals settling into Separation, they’ve finally given us access to the additional training halls. We seriously need the space, each of us having nearly twenty members in our units, both Creations and Normals. The virtual reality hall that’s being opened near the Creations’ recreation hall will allow the Normals to train in an almost real environment. This is safest for them, as refraining from putting them in life-threatening situations is imperative.
Babying the Normals also leaves them weak. Though we’re all here for the same reason, they get special treatment because they’re fragile. However, there are Normals here who could bench press me if they wanted to. So they can be pushed. General Jord just doesn’t want me to yell at them, I guess, though he’s constantly yelling at me to whip them into shape.
“Month three of Separation and no war. I’m so bored,” Fein complains. She contorts a weird face that makes one eye cross and her brows waggle. “All we do, day in and day out, is train. I’m so tired of looking at sweaty Normals, I want to puke.”
I chuckle. “I can relate.” I’ve been trying to remain the same, walk around like nothing has changed inside of me even though it feels like there’s a permanent knife lodged in my heart. “Let’s hurry and make it to the target practice hall before Jord has a cow.”
Coming from our short, noonday sweep, where we make sure the grounds surrounding the base are clear of any Zombies, Fein and I jog to the target hall and join our teams sat on the floor.
“Today,” the general’s voice echoes off the walls in the large hall. “Those of you who are still unfamiliar will go through basic training. Weaponry and target practice. Many of you have been working on this task for over three weeks. It is not hard to assemble and disassemble a gun. For crying out loud!” He gestures with an angry sweep of his hand across his front. “We are not asking you to defuse a goddamn bomb.”
I can visibly see the frustration looming over his head as he cracks his neck and takes in a deep breath through his nose.
Deflated, he peacefully continues. “Leaders, make sure your groups understand their weapons this week. It is the final week we will waste time on this minor task. After completing weaponry, you will run laps and complete the obstacle course. This will be timed. If you’re not finished by lunch, when you return, just move on to group members fighting a round with your leaders. Respond.”
“We understand,” the room replies in unison.
We section off in fours, taking the corners of the hall for target practice where our groups can stay out of each other’s way.
At a table stacked with guns, grenades, and bombs, I explain each item and the bullets from full metal jackets to hollow points. “This one is an M4 carbine.” I leave it in view for those in the back. “It’s an assault rifle. It can be used where lightweight and quick action is required. It also has a grenade launcher. This rifle helps in battle with what we’ll be going up against. These,” I raise two handguns, “are a Beretta M9 and a Colt M1911. They are both semi-automatic weapons, but the M1911 has seven-round mags with a muzzle velocity of 825 feet per second. The M9 has a fifteen-round mag with a velocity of 1200 feet per second and a range of over 150 feet. This should help you determine the distance required for maximum results.” I disassemble and reassemble the rifle and handguns. After I assemble each gun, I fire them at a target twelve feet in front of the table. “Now, your turn, and do not leave from behind this table. I don’t want any of you getting shot because of stupidity.”
The Creations have it on the first try, along with those I’ve trained with back home and in the races. Only a few Normals need to do it twice.
“Okay. Great improvement! Here is the grenade that we will use to kill the dead that walk the earth,” I say, picking one up. “They are very effective in slowing down and eliminating your enemy, and because of that, we will not have a visual aid until ordered to by the general or in action.” I nod, and they follow. “Okay, everyone go again with each gun and fire after reassembly. Respond.”
“We understand,” they say in a dry tone.
I step out of their way.
“This is what you all do, shout orders and manage?” Danny laughs, stepping to my side. Separation was the golden ticket for Danny. Ever since the day we met eight years ago, it’s all he’s talked about. But I guess living on the streets would have anyone looking forward to a permanent roof over their heads, even if the cost was going to war.
“No, we kill people when the time calls for it and things now. Tasks and orders are handed down from General Jord and Seits. Higher ranked Creations are required to help with duties like Citizen Management or Order Maintenance in one of the factions, and we’re shipped out where we’re needed. Other times, yeah, we’re shouting orders and managing those in Separation.” I match his laugh with a chuckle of my own, though I’m in no mood for jokes. But as Jord mentioned prior to their arrival, we’re to be relatable, and as Luke has drilled into my head, I’m never to allow personal shit to affect business.
“Seems simple enough.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“What do you think I have to do to get in that position?” Danny is after the male leader position General Jord announced when the Normals arrived. I have been discreetly training him to prepare for it.
“Be better than everyone else.” I watch the next person finish and pat Danny on the back. “Your turn. Try a few headshots.” He goes to the table, grabbing a M9.
Luke enters the training room. He looks over everyone as he comes over to me. “Wassup?” It is his routine check. He’s required to do this since acquiring the new captain position.
I haven’t been able to look him in the eyes since I begged him for that favor. “The obvious.”
“Okay.” He’s just as distant. He bumps my arm with his elbow and leaves to check on the other leaders.
Our conversations have been short. He wants to argue about the turn of events. I don’t. I can’t discuss my moment of weakness or putting Luke’s life in danger as I requested his help to save my crush’s brother. I put both of us on the line for a boy who will not even look at me, talk to me, or want to be caught in the same hall as me. Shaking my head, I throw my hand in my face and suppress a groan.
“I’m sorry, Ky. Did I mess it up?” Rebecca asks.
Oh. “No. No.” I smile to pacify her worried eyes. “You did well, Becca. Keep up the good work.” I can’t live like this. This personal stuff is affecting every part of my life, and I need to get a handle on it.
After each member of my team completes the second assembly, I make them take part in target practice. If they hit the same target twice, they can stop. If not, they’ll continue until lunch calls.
Everyone in the mess hall quiets as Jord steps to the center of the room between a couple of tables. This feels out of place because he’d usually take the stage. “There are leader Creations who are heading out to China and Austria. The Trade has been working on building an alliance with them for the past couple of years. Fifty-six of you will be leaving from this base. We are not going for war. We are going to inform, and we will request they stand beside us in the battle against the walking dead. We will also ensure that these countries are not flooded with the undead. As a peace offering, we will help them if they are. The group of you that were selected will be leav
ing at sixteen hundred hours.”
When Cory came to explain himself after being caught sneaking from Jord’s office, I vaguely recall him mentioning something about Creations being shipped off.
“Great.” Collins slams her tray down across from me. “Something else I wasn’t chosen for.”
“I wasn’t chosen either, Collins,” I tell her before drinking from my milk carton.
“None of us were,” Fein speaks up, turning in her seat to face us. “Mostly the older Creations are going, those who have traveled there before. Don’t feel jealous, Collins.”
“I want to be chosen for something,” she says through her teeth and takes a bite of her sandwich. Floyd and Cecilia also take a seat at our table. Everyone eats and talks amongst each other. I nod and keep my words short. I haven’t much to say.
Sean is sitting between Fein and me. Though I see him every day, healed and the same upbeat Sean I’ve always known him to be, there are times I still see him covered in blood, missing half his face, and snarling like a Zombie. I dart my gaze in his direction from the corner of my eyes. Not only did his brother put my life over his, but he also believes we’re traitors. But mainly it’s because of the former that sends a sour feeling rolling through my stomach whenever I’m near him. Shame: a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior.
Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2) Page 1
