I have to watch my back around her. She had me fooled for a second with the flowers and holding my hand. Fake, as Michael described her.
“You know what,” she says, looking around. “I have never walked on an interstate before. It’s going to be cool.”
And she’s moved on. I’m glad she has. Learning more about her was an experience all its own.
C H A P T E R
41
Interstate 70 looms ahead, flat and unentertaining, framed by summer trees and metal rails. We’ve come a long way, but we still have a lot of ground to cover. The trip is mentally daunting and physically tiresome. It’s a challenge I’m quickly losing interest in. I got this far mostly because of Gabe. I wanted to spend what time we had left together, and now I don’t see a reason to keep going. An underground bunker wasn’t so appealing several days ago. At this moment, it’s a burden to get to, and I don’t want to go any farther. Every passing second is an inconvenience. What life are we inching toward? What reward other than surviving is there?
I wipe my brow with a wipe and drink water. The container is half full or half empty. No, it’s half empty, and I want to chuck it into oblivion. I’m ready to give up.
I hear a beep and see a flashing green light in the woods to the right. It’s not the alien Cicadas. They glow red when we’re close. This is something else. The shadows hide what it is. I stop, and it does the same thing. The flashing green light continues. A new alien device we haven’t seen before. It has to be. Anything manmade isn’t working.
“Michael.”
“What’s up?” He twists around to look at me. Erika keeps going but stops only a few feet ahead of him.
“There’s something following me in the woods over there.”
He walks over and takes a look, squinting his eyes. “What is that?” he asks. He gets closer to the shoulder.
“Bad idea,” I tell him. “Let’s keep going.”
“It’s not a Cicada,” he says.
He comes to a standstill when the green light becomes steady. The object shows itself. It’s a floating sphere, gray and black, with what could be antennas sticking out at the bottom and top of it. It keeps getting closer.
Michael backs us away while taking his pistol from the holster. I’m not waiting to find out what that thing does. After seeing what the alien Cicada did to Gabe, I can fathom something worse happening. I run across the highway, away from the sphere. In my peripheral, Erika is going in the same direction. We enter through the trees and immediately come out onto a local road. There’s a crop field. Hearing the familiar roar of the spaceship from the bridge, I head across the road to the crop field, not sure where I’m going or if I can get away. It’s so close.
I can’t be taken! I won’t be taken! I don’t want to be enslaved, tortured, or used as a toy!
A patch of woods is within sight, and there appears to be a small house. I make it to the broken porch. The windows are boarded up. The wood walls to the structure is rotted. I imagine this crippled old house would have blown away with the slightest gale if the trees weren’t around it.
To my surprise, the door is cracked open. I push it harder than I needed to, landing on the muddy ground. The house is a one-room rectangular space with no floor. The walls are wood boards spaced too far apart, leaving untamed vegetation to grow in the cracks. I have second thoughts about hiding here. This is not going to protect me from lightning Seeds or house eating Swarms. Just as I’m about to run back out, I hit an unmovable object. And just as quickly, I’m lifted off the ground by the neck, tossed outside like I weighed nothing.
My head swims, and my back hurts. But I get my bearings and look around. I notice a set of boots. My eyes follow the form standing in them. Black iridescent scales cover muscular legs. The midsection is narrow. His chest broad. His face is chiseled. Two indigo eyes set in radiant dark skin perfects his looks. Without a doubt, I’m at the feet of Indigo Mohawk. He’s found us. He must have known we were watching him at the bridge.
He speaks words I don’t understand. I quickly scoot back away from him, only to be stopped by a tree. He takes one single lunge to reach me and grabs my neck again. Under his grip, I have no choice but to rise to my feet. Indigo Mohawk leans in for a closer look. I can smell his rancid breath. His skin against my neck is cold and hard. I’m face to face with him, looking right into the pits of his indigo eyes. There is wrath, a pure evil I’ve never seen but clearly recognize. I’m about to die. This is the end I’ve dreaded since their arrival.
Erika screams, gaining my attention. She’s dragged on her knees by Blonde Scar. Erika has restraints on her wrists and a clamp around her neck. Blonde Scar pulls her dark wavy hair so high that Erika’s knees are no longer touching the ground. She screams from the pain. Blonde Scar hits her, sending Erika backward. The act so brutal, I can feel it in my gut. She lands hard on the gravel and doesn’t move. She could be dead, and I’m next.
I try to fight Indigo Mohawk away. I hit his chest, scratch his face, kick his legs. With an awful echoing bellow from his gut, he laughs at my feeble attempts to defend myself.
Gunshots ring out, echoing through the woods. Dirt spatters at Indigo Mohawk’s feet. He lets go of me and reaches for a weapon. More sounds of gunfire go off. Bullets whiz by Indigo Mohawk’s head. Blonde Scar sprints to where the shots are coming from. Then I see my brother. He’s behind a tree. He shoots again, hitting Blonde Scar in the shoulder. It only slows her down. Michael comes from behind the tree and aims high. Indigo Mohawk means to shoot him, but I body slam him in the back as hard as I can before he can get a shot off. Both of us fall to the ground. I’m amazed I could knock him down. He scowls at me. Another shot goes off, making me jump. I look over at my brother. He has his gun aimed down now, and Blonde Scar is on the ground. She’s shot dead. The bullet hit center mass in her forehead. Red blood pours in thick rivulets into her eyes and down the scar in the middle of her face. Her arms are spread out beside her. Michael turns his gun in the direction that he last saw Indigo Mohawk, but to my utter amazement, the alien is gone. He was right beside me. I didn’t even see him run off, and there’s no sign of him anywhere.
I rush to check on Erika. She’s out and bloody. I try to wake her up. Around her neck is the clamp, the same kind that was around the woman back at the bridge. It looks more like a stiff necklace. At least, it’s not choking her. I check to make sure. It’s smooth to the touch and sturdy, the device bends but doesn’t break. I pat her face harder. She’s not dead, and we have to get going before Indigo Mohawk returns. She moans, rolls on her side, coughs and winces from the pain. Even with every bit of strength in me, I can’t help her sit up.
Michael kneels on the other side of her. “Erika, you okay?” He moves her face to get a good look. “No, you’re not.”
“Am I alive?” she asks groggily.
“Yes, you are.” Michael helps her up. Her nose is crooked and beet red. Blood oozes from the side of her mouth.
“We have to get going before they come back,” I remark, anxiously looking at Blonde Scar.
Michael hands me the alien weapon. Not sure if that’s the safest thing to do, I quickly put it in my backpack anyway. I look around for Erika’s bag. I don’t see it. She must have lost it when she was running.
We start our trek, coming out onto an empty uneven crop field. It’s hard to walk on, but we’re getting close to the end. I keep looking back, expecting Indigo Mohawk to be on our tail or watching us from somewhere we can’t see. I’m so paranoid and not paying attention to where I’m stepping, I trip over a dirt mound and land awkwardly.
“Watch where you’re stepping,” Michael snaps. “I can’t carry both of you.”
I ignore him. It’s not like I tripped on purpose. We get to a road and cross it into another patch of woods. We hear a branch snap. Listening and watching, all of us look in the direction we thought we heard it come from. We can’t really see anything.
Michael helps Erika down beside a tree, and he asks
for my bag. I take it off and hand it to him. He takes out the alien weapon and holds it in his hand, trying to get the feel of it. The object has a cylindrical barrel. A handle comes off one end at an angle, and it’s bent to a dull hook at the end. It’s wide enough that Michael can hold it with one hand. He raises it, aiming it in all directions. His hand tenses, and the weapon fires a black laser. It splits a tree, making it tumble to the ground. The noise is horrendous. Michael looks at the alien weapon, totally amazed by the damaged it caused.
“There,” I whisper loudly. “The sphere is right there.” It’s moving quickly.
Michael fires the weapon at the sphere. It dodges it. Michael tries again, this time hitting the mark. The sphere disintegrates into pieces.
Assured that thing is dead and gone, Michael returns to Erika, guiding her back to her feet. She tells him that she’s okay, even though she has a bloody broken nose, bruised red cheek, and a busted red eye. She knocks off the dirt on her pants and starts walking on her own, still wobbly, but she’s determined.
We stay in the trees until we start seeing alien Cicadas. Then we take to Interstate 70. About a mile down at Braddock Heights, Middletown Exit 49, we decide to regroup. Erika is still in restraints, and her face is a mess. She has to get checked out and cleaned up before we go any farther.
C H A P T E R
42
After cleaning the blood from Erika’s face, Michael fidgets with the cuffs on her wrists and the clamp on her neck. He can’t stretch either one to get them off of her.
“Am I stuck wearing these things?” Erika asks.
“I need to find pliers,” Michael answers. “The metal on your restraints are thin enough. I believe I can cut them off easily.”
“Where are we going to find pliers?”
“We’ll check the cars on the highway as we go.”
“Well, let’s get started.” Erika stands up. “I want these things off of me as soon as possible.”
“You sure you want to keep going. We can take a break.”
“No more breaks.”
We’re on the move again, but I’m surprised. Erika doesn’t talk that much, and she’s not complaining about the pain. I know her face has to hurt with each step she takes. The attack was a small blessing; I hate to admit.
We check every car on the highway. A few we had to break the windows, but no pliers were found so far. No one must buy those things anymore. They must be an unpopular tool. Or perhaps people don’t keep them in their cars. After a while, I feel like we’re wasting time. Breaking into every single car is slowing us down.
But I do understand. I wouldn’t want an alien clamp on my neck or be in restraints either.
Much to my surprise, Erika flops down on the side of the road. Now that I take a really good look at her, she’s an absolute mess. Her hair is disheveled. The bruising around here ear is still prominent. Her nose is crooked and swollen. She has one bloodshot eye and a cut lip. The alien clamp is harsh against her white skin, and the cuffs is creating bruises around her wrists.
Michael is a few yards ahead, waist deep and searching in a sedan.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask, worried that she might be getting worse.
“I’m peachy. Can’t you tell?” Erika is angry, and she’s fed up with her predicament.
“You’re a tough girl.”
“Who me?”
“You took that hit from the alien. You didn’t cry.”
“That’s because she knocked the shit out of me.”
I laugh but try to stop when I see she’s serious.
“You didn’t cooperate like you said you would.”
“They didn’t give me a chance, and that blonde thing didn’t like me.”
“Her name is Blonde Scar.”
“You gave her a name too?”
I shrug, feeling embarrassed by it.
“I didn’t see Blue Spike,” Erika replies. “You think that wound got the best of him?”
“I have no idea.”
“How did we get away from them?”
“Michael killed Blonde Scar. The other one took off. I don’t know how, but one minute he was there, and then he vanished.”
“You didn’t see where he went?”
“No.”
“I must confess. I’m impressed with your brother. He actually killed an alien. I seriously thought they were invincible. After seeing the other one get stabbed, he stood up like it didn’t affect him.”
“Well, they bleed like we do, blood red and all.”
“Your brother saved my life. I owe him a big one.”
I don’t want to know the details.
“Oh, look,” Erika says, getting back on her feet. “He found a pair of pliers! My hero!”
Michael rushes over to us. First, he tries the cuffs. They cut easily and fall right off. Erika is happy and jumps as she rubs her wrists. Then Michael checks the clamp, pressing the metal. He finds a suitable spot and starts clipping. The metal fragments and breaks apart but continues to hang by a mesh of threads. It stretches wide enough so Erika can take it off over her head. She squeals and hugs him. Michael isn’t ready for her, and he stands there awkward with his arms out. She kisses him on the cheek, but instantly regrets it. She bumped her nose. She’s almost in tears from the pain.
Michael inspects the clamp and cuffs, touches the edges where they were cut. Splintered and sharp, the clamp cuts his finger a little. Michael sucks on his thumbs and tosses the clamp into the grass.
“We all good?” Michael asks. I nod. As an answer, Erika threads her arm into his. “Let’s go.”
Wide open skies and hilly forested land is our view for the moment. It’s gorgeous. I’ve come to enjoy the natural settings more so than the suburban areas and cities, where the aliens are located, but my sense of ease is shattered. I spot another sphere. It’s following us, trying to use the trees for cover.
“Michael,” I whisper. “There’s another one of those floating things behind us.”
“Don’t look back again,” he says calmly. “Keep walking.”
“Is there a spaceship nearby?” Erika asks.
“You two walk up ahead. When I tell you to hide, you hide off the road on the other side of the railing. Do not move from that spot until I tell you.”
“Oh, god, here we go again,” Erika whines.
“You can do this. No worries. Just keep going.”
We speed up. Michael slows down. I don’t look back, but I want to. Suddenly, Michael tells us to hide. We take off, running into each other like two silly clowns. I get over the railing easily. Erika trips and lands on her side. I help her up, and we rush over to a wall of pines. They look like they’ve been planted instead of growing there naturally. Something explodes. Erika and I fall flat to the ground.
The roar of the spaceship, it’s getting closer. Michael runs through the wall of pines, sliding to a stop when he sees us. We’re about to get up and run, but he waves at us to stay. He stands still, listening. We listen too. I hear Indigo Mohawk yelling. Michael puts his finger to his lips and leads us quietly to the woods. We come out into a backyard. The home still stands. We keep going through the side yard, to the front, and across the street to the woods.
Once we’re in the safety of the woods, or at least I think we are, I look back, seeing Indigo Mohawk approaching the house. More aliens are with him. They’re dressed in the scaled suits, have different hair colors, and stand at different heights. They’ve branched out to surround the house. Indigo Mohawk watches as the aliens slowly approach from all sides, but then one of the aliens lets off a premature shot. All of them are startled and looks to Indigo Mohawk, who’s glaring at the responsible alien. Gunfire is suddenly returned from the window. An alien is hit in the leg. He falls clutching his wound. All of the aliens are surprised but regain their composure when the shot alien gets back on his feet. Indigo Mohawk gives what sounds like a command, and all the aliens lay waste to the house, firing their black laser weapons. Wood splinte
rs into shards. Windows shatter. Indigo Mohawk watches with triumphant pride as if the destruction is a marvel of his own making.
He believes we’re in that house. That poor family won’t survive the attack. The home is crumbling to its foundation, disintegrating into a cloud of dust. I can’t look. I step lightly, taking the lead as Michael and Erika follow.
C H A P T E R
43
Myersville, Maryland
Two bridges cross over the country road up ahead. I hope that they’re Interstate 70. If they are, that means we’re still on the right track. We climb the steep incline and come out on a grassy patch. As far as I can see, there’re sky, trees, and asphalt. That’s enough for me, and I hope it stays that way for a while.
A big blue information sign tells of a rest area in one mile. We’ve put plenty under our belts but seeing that one-mile jabs at my resolve. I’m all fine when I don’t know how far I have to go, but as soon as a number is put to it, I want to sit down and pray to the geometry gods to bring the end of the mile to me. A dream, of course. Michael is getting us there though, moving at a swift pace. I keep going now because he hasn’t given up.
The ramp to the welcome center finally makes its appearance, but we take to the trees to approach the area. Thank goodness there aren’t any alien Cicadas, or I would be walking on the ramp. I don’t care who sees me. The narrow road is a little longer than I expect, but eventually, the welcome center comes into view. It reminds me of a bait shop, day care center, and a local restaurant all in one, just a hodgepodge of a place where you can buy fried green tomatoes, country gossip, and sweet tea. To the side, there’s a playground and a dog walking area.
Michael is not keen on showing up at the front entrance unannounced. He believes the place could be occupied. There are six big rigs, a couple of campers, and a car.
Dust to Dust: An Apocalyptic Thriller Page 17