by S. E. Smith
Her purpose at this complex had been to find out more about who she was and the woman who made her. As she had drawn closer, her connection with Dust alerted her to the danger he was in. The connection between them had perhaps been born from the supernatural forces that had altered them. Whatever caused the connection was irrelevant at the moment.
Daciana understood that if these insects flourished, all creatures on the planet would be doomed to extinction—including herself and Dust. She looked up at the mass trying to get to them. They were as hungry for her and Dust’s power as she had been at one time for his.
“We must destroy these creatures. They will wipe out all life if we do not,” she said, looking back at him.
“That sounds good to me. How do you propose we do that? Even Josie’s fire wasn’t enough to kill them,” he said with a doubtful expression.
“Individually, we do not have the strength, but combined we do,” Daciana stated.
“What do you suggest?” Dust asked with a wary look.
She looked down at her hands before looking up at him again. “I am aging rapidly.” She didn’t expect him to take her next comment very well. “I need your blood to stop it. In return, my blood will give you the power to kill these bugs,” she explained.
His eyes widened but he didn’t immediately balk against the idea. Instead, she watched him swallow and rub his hands uneasily along his jeans. She glanced up at the shield. It was beginning to compress around them with the weight of the insects pressing down on the bubble of energy.
“Preferably before we are eaten alive,” she suggested.
“Why don’t you just kill them?” he asked in a voice laced with suspicion.
Daciana gave him a rueful smile. “Because I would kill myself in the process and I have found that I have no desire to die. The more energy I expend, the more accelerated my aging rate becomes in a short period of time,” she admitted.
Dust gave her a critical look. She could tell that he was comparing how she looked now to what she looked like when they first met. She no longer looked like a teenage girl, but a young woman in her early twenties. At the rate she was aging, she would be an old woman in a few years.
“Fine,” he said, giving her a sharp nod.
Daciana released a relieved breath, and studied his face as she stepped closer to him. She placed her hand on his waist and drew him closer. Opening her mouth, she bent closer to his neck.
“I will not kill you. I do not understand why we are bound, human, but I think this world will need both of us if any creature is to survive,” she murmured near his ear.
She didn’t wait for his response. His instinct must have kicked in as well. She felt his kiss against her neck, the brief flash of pain, and the slight pressure of his lips. Power surged through her and she closed her eyes. Memories—this time his—formed in her mind. The image of an older man bent over a machine with his face marked by dirt, oil, and frequent smiles. The next image was of an older woman looking at the man and the boy with a loving smile. This is what a loving, human family was like. Scene after scene played out before her until she was flooded with confusion and grief. She didn’t understand these last two emotions until she connected them with Dust—and her own feelings. This is what connected them—their confusion over what had happened to them and their shared grief—his for a family he knew and remembered and hers for a family that she only had vague memories of through an unnatural link and creation that should never have happened.
She withdrew from him, opening her eyes and looking away. He did the same, only he kept his eyes locked on her face. She watched as the shield that had protected them expanded outward. The energy behind the shield rolled over the insects—aging them until they turned to a powdery dust under the weight of it.
The wave continued until it touched every corner and crevice. The skeletal remains of the human host was the only thing that remained. It had been protected under the mass of bugs from Josie’s fire and from Dust’s wave of energy by his compassion and desire to give the fallen soldier a proper burial.
Daciana studied the boy with a quiet respect. This was another new emotion that came from her connection with Dust. She looked around the cavernous interior.
“I don’t like dark, confined places,” she admitted.
Dust’s lips twitched. “Neither does Josie,” he shared.
Daciana’s lips curved. “I think… I could… like Josie,” she reluctantly admitted.
He nodded. “She’s alright once you get to know her. So are the others,” he gently added.
Daciana lifted her chin. “Perhaps, but are they willing to accept me?” she asked.
“Are you crazy?” Randolph demanded.
Dust winced at the other man’s loud exclamation. He glanced over at McCullon who was talking to Mendoza. The General glanced back at them before returning his glare to where Daciana was sitting on a crate nonchalantly studying the activities of those crossing over to the elevator leading down to the area that had been destroyed.
The General had been glaring suspiciously at Daciana since the group emerged topside. He hoped the man followed through on his promise. If he didn’t—well, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.
“She needs our help,” he replied in a quieter voice.
Randolph lifted his head and glared at Daciana. “Might I remind you that she is a murderer? She killed my dad,” he retorted in an angry voice.
Dust tilted his head and looked at Randolph. “And how many people did you lead your dad to and he murdered because they were like you, me, and Josie?” he retorted, not backing down.
Randolph opened his mouth before he snapped it shut. He lowered his head before he shook it. For a moment, Dust regretted his outburst, but he also felt that he’d needed to make his point.
“You don’t have to remind me. I live with what I did every day.” Randolph lifted his head and Dust could see the guilt, grief, and remorse on the other man’s face. “I can’t change what happened,” he said.
Dust shifted and looked over at Daciana. She looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. He gave her a wry smile. It wasn’t easy knowing so much about her—or knowing that she knew just as much about him.
“Neither can Daciana. She… There’s a lot more to her. She’s not all bad,” Dust explained.
“She’s not?” Randolph questioned, looking at where Daciana was examining her long fingernails.
“I said not all. There might still be a little bad in her,” Dust joked before he shook his head at his own sardonic amusement. “She won’t hurt us. I made her promise.”
Randolph gave him a skeptical look. “If you say so. I’ll let you convince Josie of that once she’s feeling better,” he retorted before turning and walking away without another word.
Dust felt like groaning, but instead he gazed at Sammy who was sitting alone. Her feet were drawn up on a crate and she was resting her chin on her knees. She lifted her head and watched him as he walked over and sat down beside her.
“The others aren’t happy with you,” she murmured when he slid onto the crate and leaned back against the wall.
“I know,” he replied, leaning forward and swinging his feet. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What about you? You don’t seem like you are so happy with me right now either.”
She lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “I don’t know. I saw the way…. I’m not sure what I feel at the moment,” she confessed. Lifting a hand, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I know you would never intentionally do anything that would hurt anyone. I’m worried, like the rest, that….”
He turned, tilted his head, and studied her face. “That…?” he prompted.
She rested her chin on her knees again and didn’t look at him. “What happened down there? From the little Josie said, things were pretty hopeless until the She-Devil showed up,” she commented.
Dust thought about how to explain what had happened, but he wasn’t sure he understood
it all himself. How did you explain that you did a blood swap without a transfusion? He lifted his hand and ran it through his hair. It was getting shaggy again. He also needed to wash it.
He dropped his hands to his lap, turned in his seat again, and leaned back. He moodily stared at the soldiers who were moving about. A grimace crossed his face when he saw two soldiers exit the elevator carrying a blanket-draped stretcher.
“I can’t tell you what happened down there. I can only ask that you trust me and promise you that I would never, ever do anything that would hurt you, Todd, or the others,” he swore.
“I hope you’re right—for all our sakes,” Sammy replied before she slid off the crate and walked away.
Dust remained where he was, suddenly feeling unsure of everything. Once again, he wished that his parents were alive. He bowed his head as grief washed through him at the thought of never seeing them again.
He thought of the young men who had died today. He wondered if they had any family left that would mourn them. He’d seen the grief—and suspicion—on several of the soldiers’ faces when they emerged from the tunnel.
Still, the expression of confusion and shock on Sammy’s face when she had seen him walking beside Daciana continued to bother him the most. She had started toward him, only to stop and recoil in wary unease and disbelief. Before he could even approach Sammy, the General, the doctor, and a hoard of soldiers had surrounded him and the three women. They took them to an area to be examined to make sure they weren’t infested.
That had been an interesting experience in itself. Daciana had no problems stripping out of her clothing to be checked. Dust swore his face had turned as red as the fire Josie created down in the cave. Fortunately, the doc had closed the curtain, but not before more than half of the soldiers got an eyeful!
When he stepped out and saw Daciana look at him with a confused expression, he had grinned at her and shook his head. That was when he caught the disapproving glare Sammy had shot at him before she turned and walked over to the crate.
“I don’t understand girls,” he muttered, looking from Josie to Sammy to Daciana.
A soft chuckle startled him and he looked up to see General McCullon looking down at him. He could feel the heat rising up his neck again at being caught voicing his confusion. He gave the General a self-derisive smile.
“That is a problem that has plagued men from the very beginning. I imagine the answer will continue to elude men until the bitter end,” McCullon noted.
“I guess so, sir,” he answered.
McCullon studied his expression. “Are you sure all of those insects are gone?” he inquired.
Dust nodded. He’d felt the connection the large insect queen had with the others. Destroying her ensured there would be no others, but he also knew that whatever new power he now had to turn things to dust had taken care of all the bugs.
“Yes, sir. They are all gone. I’m sorry about the men you lost,” he added.
“Who is the woman who appeared?” McCullon quietly demanded.
Dust turned and looked at Daciana. She was looking at one of the soldiers standing guard with a perplexed expression. From where he was standing, it looked like the guard was trying to flirt with her.
“An old… acquaintance,” he replied before looking back at the General. “She’ll be traveling with us when we leave,” he added in a voice that sounded far older and a little sharper than he meant to be.
McCullon was silent for a moment. Dust could sense the disapproval in the older man. It reminded him a bit of his dad—who could say a lot without uttering a word. He shifted from one foot to the other as the uncomfortable silence grew. He was about to mumble an apology when the General spoke.
“We could use you here,” McCullon stated.
Dust shook his head. “You promised me you’d let us all leave, sir. I know you’re a military man. You could try to keep us here. You could even threaten us to do so, but I wouldn’t suggest it,” he quietly answered.
“Are you threatening me, son?” McCullon demanded in a deep, hard tone.
Dust shook his head. “No, sir. I think you understand how dangerous this world is and how different some of us are without having to do any threatening.” He looked over at Major Mendoza where she was directing the cleanup activities. “You have your own protection. You don’t need us. I want to see if any of my family survived. They lived outside of Portland. You said that there were survivors there. I’d like to see if maybe my aunt and uncle made it,” he calmly added.
McCullon hadn’t missed his glance at Major Mendoza. He ignored it and his quiet reference to her unique abilities. McCullon’s mouth tightened for a brief moment before he looked thoughtfully at Dust.
“Two helicopters are returning to Portland Air National Guard base there. They can take those of you who aren’t infe—altered into the base. Those of you who are will have to be dropped off outside the walls. That is the best I can do, son. I have an agreement with General Troyfield that no Others would be transported into Asylum,” McCullon explained.
“I understand, sir,” Dust said, looking over at where Sammy and the rest their family were clustered. “I’ll let the others know. Thank you.”
McCullon nodded. “Thank you for whatever you did down there, Dust. I know you didn’t ask for this world to be like this—or for what happened to you. I want you to know that I appreciate your help in destroying those creatures before they could do more damage,” he said.
“None of us did, sir,” Dust replied.
Chapter Thirteen
Parting ways:
Dust was almost to a covered area where the others had gathered when Major Mendoza approached him. He shoved his hands in his pockets. She had been with Josie so she wasn’t aware of everything that had happened down below.
“Dust,” Mendoza greeted.
“Major,” he replied, unsure of how else to greet her.
He blinked when she smiled—if you could call it that. The corners of her mouth slightly lifted so he figured it was about as close to a smile as she ever got. His gaze moved to the others before returning to her face—as if sensing his impatience.
“The General asked that I create supply packs for each of you since you lost what you had when we took you. I’ve instructed that they be loaded onto the helicopters,” she said.
Dust blinked in surprise at the generous offer. “I… thanks. I know the others will appreciate it as well,” he added.
“I also wanted to give you a word of warning. Don’t go near the Asylum. General Troyfield… is very hostile to those who are different,” she said, her voice dropping to a quieter level as she took a step closer to him.
That might make trying to locate his aunt and uncle a bit more challenging if they were part of this Asylum complex.
“I’ll remember that and warn the others,” he acknowledged.
Major Mendoza nodded. “The helicopters will be leaving within the hour,” she instructed before giving him a hesitant, almost curious look.
Dust didn’t miss her strange expression and asked, “Is there anything else?”
Her lips twitched before she grew serious. “You are a very strange young man, Dust. I have to say that I feel more hopeful for the future of our planet knowing you and others like you are out there,” she murmured.
This time it was his turn to smile. “That would have shocked some of the teachers at school, not to mention about ninety-eight percent of the student body,” he chuckled self-deprecatingly before he returned her solemn gaze. “You’re one of the Others, too. Maybe we were changed to help make the world a better place. My dad used to say that sometimes starting from a clean slate allows you to move forward without all the baggage. Of course, he usually said that when my mom talked about moving closer to her brother. They had a lot of stuff on the farm,” he finished on a wistful note.
“Your parents sound like good people,” Major Mendoza murmured.
Dust blinked and nodded. “They were. Did you
have any family, Major?” he asked, suddenly curious.
A sad expression crossed her face before she could mask it. “My husband and four-year-old daughter,” she said before she turned away. “I’ll instruct the crew where to drop you off.”
Dust watched the Major walk away. Her back was ramrod straight. Looking around the area, he was reminded that while he had lost his parents, many of those who lived here had lost much, much more. He looked at Sammy and Todd. Todd was excitedly talking, his hands waving in the air as he described something that he’d seen in vivid detail. He couldn’t imagine losing them now that he’d met them.
With a shake of his head, he pushed the thought away. He’d promise to protect them and he would do everything he could to keep his word. He pulled his hands from his pockets and walked over to the others.
They grew quiet when he entered. Dust turned his gaze to the makeshift bed where Josie was sitting. She gave him a rueful look before lifting the supplement drink to her lips. He raised an eyebrow when he saw six empty cans on the table next to her.
“Wow,” he murmured.
Josie lowered the can in her hand and placed it next to the others. She shrugged and pushed a handful of red hair back from her face. She gazed into his eyes.
“Please tell me again that I’ll never, ever, in a million, gazillion, ad infinitum years have to deal with those bugs again,” she said, breaking the growing tension within the group.
Dust chuckled. “They’re toast,” he acknowledged.
“Thank goodness,” Josie breathed, leaning back and resting her hands on her stomach.
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket when no one said anything. He didn’t miss the way they were avoiding his gaze. He debated on what to say. He’d never been any good at starting conversations.
“Martha, Denise, Randolph, and I are staying here,” Raymond suddenly said.