Top cocked his head at Ry. “How’d you get in the pilot seat, anyway? What happened to Captain King flying?”
Both men glanced over at where the redheaded pilot stood by the wall, staring down at the helmet in his hands.
“We had a disagreement on the mission, sir. I didn’t feel like dying.”
Top’s eyebrows went up, and so did mine.
“Well, okay, then.” Top grasped his shoulder and then gave it a hard pat. “I’ll debrief you when we arrive. For now, try to relax.”
“Sir?” Rylen said before he could walk away. “Still no sign of Jacob Tate or Remy Haines?”
Top’s face fell. “No, son. I’m sorry. And it seems First Lieutenant Thompson is unaccounted for, as well.” Linette.
Again, my chest collapsed and I had to reach for Rylen. I just couldn’t believe this was reality. How had it happened? I hated that we would probably never know.
Seconds later, we were surrounded by what was left of our group. Devon, Shavontae, Texas Harry, New York Josh, Short Matt, Skinny Mark, Officer Sean, and J.D.
“Where are Remy and Tater?” J.D. asked, looking around.
I caught Devon giving him a hard shake of his head, and I had to press my lips together as the whole group froze, turning to look at me in shock.
“They didn’t make it,” I whispered.
J.D. covered his mouth and his eyes watered as he moved to hug me. I let him, closing my eyes against the looks of shock.
“We can’t find Linette either,” Josh said.
“What?” Shavontae yelled. They’d been roommates.
A sobering sensation fell over our group.
“Maybe they’re together?” J.D. said in his sweet, hopeful voice.
I shook my head, and whispered. “I hope they’re dead.” This made J.D. cringe, but the others nodded. I knew they were thinking what I was—that it’d be better to die a quick death than to be captured, tortured for intel, or used as experiments. I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t. Tater wouldn’t be able to handle it, mentally, and Remy was so kind and tender-hearted. I hated to think of how it would affect her emotionally to be in that position.
As for Linette . . . she could probably take on the whole Baelese Army. But as tough as she was, and as much grief as she gave me, I wouldn’t wish it on her.
A side door to the massive garage opened, and a man in an Air Force uniform of navy blue marched in with five guys in Army camo behind him. Top came forward and shook his hand. A hush fell over the room.
“I’m Colonel Latham. Welcome to the outskirts of Anchorage.” He paused to look over our quiet ranks. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but you’ll all fit in the bunker. We brought six vehicles, and we have to move quick. We’ve got a small group of local DRI at Elmendorf base—they’re scouting north of the city right now—but they’re diligent.”
Just the mention of DRI gave me the shivers. Disaster Relieve Initiative was what the aliens called themselves while they were taking over Earth, masquerading as humans pretending to help people back on their feet, to fight against the “unknown enemy”. But they were the enemy all along. It was DRI who shot my grandpa right in our living room. It was DRI who called for Captain King to bomb the innocent people of towns, killing my parents and Abuela. And it was DRI who gave women shots to cripple their reproductive systems, me and Remy included.
All I wanted in life now was to help find a way to stop them, and to use my paramedic skills to keep humans healthy enough to win back this Earth. Knowing Colonel Latham had an entire team here, humans just like us, gave me hope. If there were cells of people like us all over the world, it was just a matter of time until we could fight back. And when the time came, I would be ready.
Remy
We waited so long on that comfy couch that I started to doze again. I swear, I wasn’t usually so lazy, but my body wasn’t handling the excitement and injury very well. It just kept shutting down. But I sat up straight when Tater gave me a small jab in the side with his elbow. I glanced over at Linette’s mewling face of innocence and held back a burst of untimely laughter just as a woman in a sharp, black skirt suit came in.
She was one of the aliens. I used to envy their slender perfection, hair coifed like gorgeous fifties pinup girls, but now I saw it for the fakeness it was. Her mechanical movements and lack of expression. Tater went rigid beside me, and I tried to will him to relax. It was hard as she stood in front of us and peered down her nose, surveying us like objects.
“Welcome to the Baelese Base. You will each be interviewed. You are expected to answer all questions fully and truthfully. If you are found being disloyal or dishonest, your time here will be terminated.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Linette said, almost worshipful.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said quietly.
Tater nodded and said, “Of course.”
She eyed us a moment longer before calling for three men in black uniforms to come in and take each of us by an arm. Judging by the weird, stiff movements of the men, I don’t think they were human. In fact, I hadn’t seen a human here yet.
I caught a glance of encouragement from Tater before he was tugged in the other direction, out of the room. He was bigger than the soldier pulling him, and I knew it killed him not to overpower the jerk.
Be strong, Tater.
Linette and I were taken in another direction down the hall and led into separate rooms. Mine was sparse and immaculately clean. Lush maroon carpets. Bare walls. One ornate, dark table. Cushioned, matching chairs on each side. In the corner of the ceiling was a tiny camera. He sat me in the far chair and said, “Wait here.”
As if I had a choice. He locked the door on his way out. I sat there, bound wrists in my lap, wishing I could fix my messy ponytail, which was surely frizzy and drooping down my head.
I was pondering how stupid it was to feel vain in these circumstances when the door opened, and the very last face I expected to see stood there, staring back at me with a familiar, handsome smile.
“Senator Navis!” I cried.
If possible, his smile warmed his face further, and my heart gave a start. This man. I had admired him so long, since I was a teen. I followed his career in politics, tearing up at his heartfelt speeches to the people of Nevada. I cried so hard when he lost his wife in the car accident. The funeral coverage wrecked me. That was right before Thanksgiving. Right before the bombs killed all the other world leaders. He would have been president someday, before all of this happened, I was sure of it.
The others believed he was working with the enemy—that he was even their leader—but looking at him now, in person, there was no way. He had to be human. But he was able to walk freely . . . was he working with them? But why? Maybe he was faking allegiance, like me.
“I won’t bother you for long, but prefer to meet all of the new arrivals,” he said. I couldn’t help but smile. He was so laid back. Calming. But he didn’t attempt to come into the room. He stood in the doorway, thoughtfully surveying me, just as I surveyed him.
His face showed emotion. His movements were smooth, and he spoke more casually, using contractions and stuff. He was as good looking as any Baelese, but he let loose, where the others felt the need to appear perfect. What was his story?
“I understand you’re probably scared,” he said. “What is your name?”
“Remy Haines,” I responded.
“Ms. Haines.” He seemed to taste my name in his mouth, and I had to swallow to wet my throat. “Don’t be afraid. Just answer their questions honestly. Nobody will hurt you. And then we can talk more afterward. Okay?”
I nodded, sort of mesmerized. How could I be fangirling at a time like this?
His smile widened, and I had to swallow again, because whoa. How many times had I shivered when I saw that grin on television? It was so much more powerful in real life.
He closed the door behind himself and I was still reeling when a sharp dressed woman came in, her hair bone straight to her shoulders with a
perfect part. She moved stiffly, like a badly animated character, as she sat in the seat before me and set down her paper.
“Remy Haines, I am Vahni, top advisor to Bahntan—”
“Bon-ton?” I asked.
“Our leader,” she said curtly, and I shut my mouth. “I understand you were found imprisoned at Dugway Proving Ground?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And how did that come to be?” She pulled out a piece of paper with a list of names. “You signed in at the high school in Lincoln County, Nevada on December twentieth, nearly four months ago, along with Rylen Fite, and Jacob and Amber Tate. But the four of you did not make it to the safety camp with the rest of your town.”
Safety camp? As Amber would say, that’s some bullshit right there. They bombed that camp with our parents and every other innocent person in our town. I had to grind my teeth together to keep from scowling. And thank God Linette gave us a common story to use.
“The four of us were having a disagreement,” I explained. “We stepped out the side door of the building so we wouldn’t draw attention, and when we went back, everyone was gone. It happened fast.”
Vahni kept a bored look on her face. “A disagreement about what?”
“About what we were told by the DRI. Tater—I mean Jacob—and I believed them, but Amber and Rylen were skeptical and wanted to run away. When we found out the busses left without us, we went our separate ways. Jacob and I wanted to find the camp. We wanted to help the DRI look for outliers. We came across a truck with two Army guys—”
“What were their names?”
“Texas Harry and New York Josh.”
If possible, her bored look intensified.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s what we called them. We didn’t talk much. They were on their way to Dugway—”
“How did they hear about the bunker there?”
“I’m not sure,” I lied. “They were weird and secretive. I didn’t trust them, and I wanted to tell them to let me out of the truck, but then it started snowing.”
She didn’t look pleased by my lack of information. I hoped Tater and Linette were faring better. It was easy for me to play dumb, but they were military and would obviously know more than me.
“What happened when you arrived at Dugway?”
“I was so happy to see all of those people, you know? I thought for sure one of them would be willing to help me find the camp, and to get ahold of the DRI, but they were all like Amber and Rylen. Crazy! Saying the DRI wants to wipe out humanity, and that you guys are . . .”
“Are what?”
“Aliens.”
“And how did you react to that?”
I let out a breathy laugh to steel myself for the biggest, most disgusting lie I’d ever told in my life. “I told them humanity deserved whatever it got.” I nearly choked on the words. “I’m more afraid of people than anything else that’s out there. I mean, the fact that you didn’t kill me proves you’re willing to work with reasonable people.” I paused, looking at her nervously. “Are you?” I wet my lips. “Not from Earth?”
I was shaking, having no idea if my lame speech was believable or not. Especially since this lady creature had only one facial expression.
“We are not from Earth.”
I knew the answer before she said it, but the coldness in her voice made the blood drain from my face.
“Wow,” I breathed, looking down at my hands like I wasn’t worthy.
“Does that frighten you?” she asked.
I gave a small shrug and shake of my head. “Kind of. I mean, if you guys were able to make it here to Earth, that means you’re way more advanced than us. I’ve always kind of believed. Growing up near Area 51 and all.”
I never believed.
“And you are willing to help us?”
I looked straight at her. “In any way I can. This is reality now. We have to find a way to work together for the best of everyone who’s left. Maybe we can make things . . . I don’t know . . . better than before.” My eyes welled with moisture, and I prayed she saw it as hope and gratefulness rather than the pain of loss that I felt. I couldn’t imagine things being better than before. So many people were gone.
“Tell me about yourself, Miss Haines. Your family. Your education. Your skills.”
Okay, I could do this. It took me ten minutes to highlight my small town suburbia life. Daughter of a preacher and stay-at-home-mom turned realtor and interior decorator. Eight years of homeschooling, and four of public. College biology classes to become a science teacher.
The woman—thing—watched me with dead eyes as I talked. After a long, hard stare, she gave a stiff dip of her chin.
“I will recommend that you be admitted into Bael’s Primo Town.” Primo Town? “We have need for a school teacher.”
“Wow, okay.” Relief was cool and sweet. “That would be great! Thank you.”
“One last thing,” she said, pulling something from her pocket. She placed a tiny, luminescent metal thing on the table. It was about an inch long and thin, with miniscule joints, like a robotic worm, and a sharp, needle tip. The hairs on my arms went straight up.
“We call this mechanism The Helper. It helps to keep the peace. If ever you feel—how do you say it?—out of sorts, and think that the rules no longer apply to you, this tiny Helper will get you back on track.”
My mouth went completely dry and I clasped my trembling hands in my lap. I remembered First Sergeant telling us about this. That creepy little thing would go in through your ear or nose, and make its way to your brain. Then hook into your frontal lobe, taking over your personality center, basically turning you into a robot.
“W-what are the rules?” I asked hoarsely.
“You are not to attempt to leave Primo Town. For your own safety, of course. It is dangerous out there, and we want to keep you safe.” Right. “You will find that the town has everything you need. A daily schedule is in effect. Breakfast at seven in the morning. Work at eight. Lunch at noon. Fifteen-minute break at three. Work ends at six. You will report to work and meals promptly. In your off time, you will help to clean the community rooms, such as the kitchen and dining hall. Laundry will be done every third day. There will be no idle time. Everyone has work to do. At nine o’clock at night it is lights out.”
That early? Geez. Okay. I nodded. I could do all of that.
“Other rules that will be strictly enforced are no marriage, no sexual acts of any kind, and no relationships outside of friendly and professional community togetherness. In general, no touching.”
I gawked. Did she know nothing about humanity? Relationships were life. Not just marriage and sex, but friendship. Bonding. Trusting. Laughter. Affection. Where would these creatures draw the line? I had to shut my mouth and force myself to keep nodding.
“You appear concerned.”
Dang it. I cleared my dry throat. “I . . . are friendships okay? I’m a social person, by nature.”
“Just so long as it does not affect your work. But there will be no parties. No group gatherings for social purposes. No late nights. No secretive whispering or suspicious conversations of any kind. Each person will retreat to their barracks room in the evening and remain quiet. Bael soldiers will patrol.”
“I understand,” I whispered.
“Wait here for your escort.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I wanted to close my eyes and let out a huge, groaning sigh when she left, but I was fully aware of the camera in the corner. Internally, I rejoiced. She bought my ruse.
I’m in.
Amber
I never thought I’d say this, but the Dugway bunker in Utah was luxury compared to the setup in Anchorage. Again, we were in the middle of nowhere, which was good. The door looked like a tornado shelter, and there was enough tree cover to hide it from scouting planes. But unfortunately, the inside felt claustrophobic. Rooms were smaller and fewer. Ceilings lower. People . . . more numerous.
We walked into
the main room to find soldiers smashed around tables, some standing or sitting on the ground. And what I noticed first was that they were almost all men, all with desperation and hunger in their eyes. When Colonel Latham led us into the room, sardine style, everyone stopped what they’re doing and turned to us. Their eyes immediately found me, Shavontae, and the handful of other women we came with. The virile atmosphere was chilling.
Less than a year ago, these young soldiers and officers probably had wives and girlfriends at home, or they were going out and meeting women, or men, anytime they wanted. Now they were stuck underground, fighting for their lives, with no hope of a relationship or sexual release anytime soon.
Rylen took my hand and I squeezed my fingers between his, holding tight.
Judging by the Colonel’s lack of a speech, everyone here was expecting us. He led us next to a small wing with offices filled with tech equipment. I looked for medical stuff, but didn’t see any. He took us next to another large room, this one filled with cots, sleeping bags, and ratty blankets filling three quarters of the room.
“This is the men’s quarters,” Colonel Latham said. “It’s a tight squeeze, but we’ll make it work.”
Wow. I realized at that moment just how spoiled we’d been with the attached hotel.
Top spoke up too, looking around at us. “We came prepared with sleeping bags in the planes, and as many rations as we could spare. They’re being brought over on another convoy now.”
I was thankful he’d been ready, but wished I’d thought to carry a bag with me wherever I went with my own essentials and medical stuff. This sucked.
The next doorway made me crinkle my nose at the smell of human waste. We passed a line of men waiting.
“This is our only restroom. The bunker was created during the Cold War, and was never meant to sustain this many people. The plumbing is hit or miss, so if it’s yellow, let it mellow. In other words, don’t bother flushing urine. Always wash your hands, but keep it extremely brief. As for showering, each person gets a five-minute shower allowance every three days.”