by Justin Sloan
“How do you know?” Jaxon asked.
“I just do. Trust me.”
“Okay,” he whispered, and he followed close in her footsteps.
Kaylin was once again struck with a wave of love for Jaxon. She’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to have someone trust her. In the Resistance, soldiers trusted reports and intel and orders. But not people. Never people. Only family was truly capable of doing that, and she’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to have someone trust in her so completely.
They reached the bottom of the stairwell, and Kaylin paused there with one hand on the doorknob. Outside, she could hear a dull roar spreading across the city. People shouting in the streets, police yelling through megaphones, cars honking on the packed roads, helicopters whirring through the air. The cacophony of panic was growing every second, and Kaylin knew it’d only get worse as the minutes ticked down until the start of the invasion.
“We’re going to need to stay away from the main roads,” Kaylin said. “The riots are getting out of hand.”
“Agreed,” Ian said. “We’ll stick to the back roads. Just keep your heads down, and we should come out okay.”
Kaylin nodded and shoved open the stairwell door. She strode outside, trying to look as confident as she could. She glanced up and down the street, but the only people she could see were standing outside the convenience store at the far end of the street, peering up at the ships in the sky. The massive Syndicate ships hovered silently about half a mile above the city, just waiting for orders to descend.
They made it down the street and around the corner without any trouble. A few people looked at them suspiciously, but they immediately looked away when they spotted Kaylin’s pistol and Ian’s shotgun.
The street ahead of them was lined with apartments, but it was eerily empty, everyone hunkering down inside their homes. Kaylin could hear the sounds of a riot coming from nearby, toward the freeway overpass. She cursed under her breath. They needed to pass under the freeway in order to get to the Union Pier, but there was no way in hell she was about to drag Jaxon through a riot.
“We can cut through the cemetery,” Ian said, gesturing toward the rod iron fence that bordered the street. “There’s a canal at the north end of it. It passes right under the freeway.”
Kaylin nodded and headed toward the entrance of the cemetery, which stood mid-way down the street. As they neared the rod-iron gates, she felt an instinctual chill run through her. She knew it was absurd to be worried about ghosts when aliens were about to descend and slaughter the city, but she couldn’t help feeling uneasy about tromping through century-old graves.
Just as they passed through the entrance, gunshots exploded from around the corner. Screams and shouts echoed from close by. Kaylin glanced back and saw people spilling out from around the corner, fleeing from the riot. She cursed and picked up a jog, heading straight for the towering stone vaults that sat at the center of the cemetery.
They dodged through the headstones until she reached the cover of the vaults. She pulled Jaxon with her into the center path that led between the towering stone blocks, creeping as quickly as she could through them.
Most of the rioters were just harmless, panicked people frustrated that their government wasn’t doing more to protect them. Most. But not all. She knew some of the rioters were out to hurt and destroy everything around them, and she didn’t want to risk running into any of those people, or even being spotted by them.
“The canal entrance is right by those oak trees in the far corner,” Ian said, lowering his voice. “There’s a chain-link fence blocking it off, but we should be able to climb over.”
“Got it,” Kaylin said.
“Kaylin?” Jaxon whispered. “Why are they coming closer?”
The trembling fear in his voice made her feel a fresh rush of resentment toward the rioters. Kaylin peered to her right as they passed between two stone blocks, catching a glimpse of the street. The riot was slowly spilling into the previously abandoned street, and the shouting was growing louder. She could see a man angrily waving a baseball bat toward a police officer, who had her pistol drawn and aimed at his chest.
“It’s okay,” Kaylin whispered back. “They’re not going to hurt us. We’re just going to go around them.”
Jaxon frantically shook his head. “Not them.” He pointed toward the sky. “Them.”
Kaylin looked up. The ship’s engines had shifted, carrying them swiftly toward the ground.
“No,” she said, shaking her head wildly. “No.”
Ian whirled toward her, his eyes wide. “I thought you said they didn’t land for another hour?”
“They don’t!” she said. But the ships just kept descending with terrifying swiftness, proving her wrong.
The invasion had begun. Apparently, the past wasn’t about to repeat itself exactly like she’d seen it before.
She should have realized it sooner. If she had the chance to make different choices, so did other people. Or other things. The Syndicate was launching their attack early, which meant this entire neighborhood was about to explode in a matter of minutes.
Panic flooded her veins, the sort of genuine fear that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She’d battled the Syndicate many times, fighting on the front lines, and even joining the suicide mission that had landed her as a prisoner on the Syndicate’s ship. But after Jaxon’s death, she’d never felt like she’d had much to lose. Now that she had him back, the enormity of the danger finally struck her.
The flood of fear nearly froze her in place. Nearly. Her training kicked in just in time, and she pushed Jaxon forward. Ian followed at her side, pointing toward the canal and yelling, “Run!”
Kaylin dragged Jaxon along as fast as possible. She wanted to carry him, but she knew there was no way her hundred-pound body could carry him fast enough. She glanced up at the sky, struggling not to trip as she tracked the movements of the ship directly above them.
A panel on the side of the ship lifted, and white, cylindrical deployment pods launched out the side. Just then, a rocket soared up from the ground and struck the ship. A fiery ball of light enveloped the pods as the explosion shook the ground.
Debris rained down near the entrance of the cemetery, lighting the grass on fire. Kaylin grabbed Jaxon close, shielding him with her body as she ducked into the shadow of a stone column.
His mouth was open in a scream of terror, but Kaylin could barely hear it over the ringing in her ears. She stumbled to her feet, drawing her pistol from her waist.
Ian reached over, grabbing Jaxon and throwing the boy over his back in a fireman's carry. Jaxon clung frantically at his shoulders, and Ian yelled something, pointing with his gun toward the canal. Kaylin couldn’t make out what he was saying over the sounds of explosions ringing out through the city, but it was easy enough to guess. She took off sprinting toward the canal.
They burst out from the shelter of the vaults, running straight for the fenced off canal. Kaylin glanced up at the ships just in time to see another missile strike it. The explosion ballooned around the ship, but the vessel’s shields kept it at bay, stopping it from doing any real damage.
She knew what came next: pods of Syndicate soldiers. Hundreds of them, scattered throughout the city. They’d slowly fan out through the streets, overwhelming the military and police, shooting anyone who dared to attack them and capturing the others as slaves.
Two more rockets struck the ship, raining fire down on the cemetery. Kaylin leapt over a headstone to avoid a flaming patch of grass, and Ian wheeled to avoid a falling piece of metal, glowing with heat. Only a hundred yards separated them from the fence. Then fifty. Adrenaline roared through Kaylin’s veins, driving her forward with desperate speed.
A thud shook the ground. This time, there was no roar of an explosion to accompany it. Kaylin glanced over her shoulder. She cursed as she caught sight of a gleaming white pod sitting only twenty yards behind them, the crumbled ruins of a vault crunched beneath it.
“Hurry
!” Kaylin screamed at Ian.
The side door of the pod burst open, revealing five Syndicate soldiers. Their armored shells gleamed in the light of the rockets exploding overhead, and their dark visors hid any hint of expression they might have.
Rage filled Kaylin as she watched the Syndicate soldiers saunter out of the pod. Their calm and confident movements made them look like they were preparing for an afternoon stroll, not the slaughter of the human race. They gripped their rifles in their armored hands, slowly swiveling back and forth as they searched for a target.
One of them spotted Kaylin and Ian. Despair and panic filled her, but she swallowed it back, knowing it would do her no good. She wheeled around, jogging backward as she trained her pistol on the monsters. The old-fashioned bullets would do nothing against them, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let them hurt Jaxon without putting up a fight.
A rocket struck the Syndicate soldiers, swallowing them in a ball of fire. Wild cheers erupted from the street, but Kaylin knew better than to celebrate. The aliens were already climbing to their feet, their otherworldly armor not even scratched by the human-made rocket.
They whirled toward the streets, where a team of National Guard soldiers was huddling into a hasty formation. One of them was frantically reloading a rocket launcher. All five of the Syndicate soldiers turned to face the new threat, turning away from Kaylin.
She put on an extra burst of speed, staying close to Ian’s heels. Jaxon was frozen, his eyes wide with horror and his arms wrapped tightly around Ian. They reached the oak trees and immediately ducked behind the thick trunks.
Ian set Jaxon on the ground, his chest heaving as the old veteran struggled to catch his breath. Kaylin grabbed Jaxon’s pack of supplies and tugged it off his back, tossing it over the chain-link fence. She did the same with her own pack, and then Ian tossed his, along with the shotgun.
Kaylin pointed to the top of the fence, which towered eight feet above the ground. “You need to climb,” she told Jaxon.
He nodded and ran over to the fence, scrambling up and over. He was light and agile enough that he made it over fairly easily, using the wire links as handholds. Kaylin and Ian followed behind, pulling themselves up.
Kaylin reached the top in a matter of seconds, flipping over to the other side of the fence. But Ian struggled to pull up his heavier weight, which bent and sagged the old fence. Kaylin cursed and reached over the top, offering Ian a hand to help him regain his balance.
Just as he grabbed her palm, a loud voice called out, “Don’t move!”
Kaylin whipped her head toward the voice, finding herself staring down at a short, grungy man holding Ian’s shotgun. Shock slammed into her, nearly making her lose her balance. Kaylin blinked a few times, unsure where he had come from. Then she spotted the dark grey tent hiding in the bushes behind the man, just feet from the water of the canal.
She let out a curse. A homeless camp. Of course. She should have checked for one before carelessly tossing their supplies over the fence.
The man turned the shotgun’s barrel toward Jaxon’s face. Kaylin’s stomach dropped, and a panicked scream built in her throat.
Then Jaxon let out a quiet whimper of terror. The helpless little sound triggered something in Kaylin, and her horror was replaced by pure, molten rage.
The man shook the gun as he said to Kaylin and Ian, “Stay right there. Right where you are. All I want is your supplies. No one has to get hurt.”
Kaylin gritted her teeth. “Take it. Take anything. Just don’t shoot him.”
The man poked the shotgun toward Kaylin. “Your gun, too. I see that pistol there in your belt. Drop the belt. Slowly. You draw the gun, I shoot the kid.”
Kaylin let go of Ian, leaving him to cling to the fence himself, and slowly reached down to unfasten her belt. She knew she had no other choice. The belt dropped to the ground with a dull thud, leaving her weaponless.
The man edged toward her pistol, keeping the shotgun trained on Jaxon. He slowly bent down, grabbing the belt in his hand, but keeping his eyes focused on Kaylin and Ian.
An explosion rang out from the street, and a concussive blast rocked the ground. The man stumbled and whirled toward the fireball swallowing the street in the distance.
Kaylin didn’t waste the chance. She snarled in rage and leapt from the fence, aiming her foot at the man’s head. Her boot struck his skull with a sickening crack, and the man crumpled to the ground in a motionless heap.
Kaylin rolled to break her fall and then leapt up, her fists clenched and ready for a fight. But the man stayed limp on the ground.
She didn’t stop to check if his chest was still moving. She didn’t even want to know. Kaylin had killed plenty of Syndicates, but never a human civilian. As her adrenaline faded, a pang of guilt struck her, but she forced herself to shove it aside.
Kaylin ran past the homeless man, stopping only to grab her belt and gun from his limp hand, and then raced over to Jaxon. His big brown eyes stared down in horror at the man, and his scrawny arms trembled as he hugged himself around the chest.
“It’s okay,” Kaylin said, sweeping him into a desperate embrace. “It’s okay, Jax. You’re safe now. You’re gonna be fine.”
Jaxon wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and let out a choked, panicked sob. The sound hurt more than any injury she’d ever endured. She squeezed him tighter, desperately wishing she could take away his pain and panic.
“We’ve got to move, girlie.”
Kaylin turned to see Ian standing behind her with the shotgun once again gripped in his hands. He’d finally made it over the fence, although his cheek had a fresh scratch and his chest was heaving from exhaustion.
She nodded and reluctantly pulled away from Jaxon, moving back to their packs. They were muddied from being tossed to the ground, but otherwise undamaged. She tossed Ian his and slung both hers and Jaxon’s onto her back.
Then she held out her hand for Jaxon to take. He clung to it so tightly it hurt. But the relief of having his warm, living hand pressed against hers made the pain completely worth it.
THEY SCRAMBLED down the side of the canal and into the water, which was just a murky, shallow puddle that came up to Kaylin’s knees. The tunnel under the freeway was only about eight feet high, but it stretched on three hundred feet. A familiar tingling squeezed Kaylin’s chest, and she took a deep breath, fighting off the claustrophobia.
Every few seconds, tremors shook the concrete beneath their feet as the freeway above them was struck with another explosion. The distant sound of honking horns, explosions, and screams melded into a breathless chorus of terror, echoing off the damp walls.
Ian slowed as they neared the tunnel’s exit, and Kaylin noticed that his breathing was growing more labored. As the adrenaline of their encounter with the homeless man wore off, the exhaustion of running and leaping through a battlefield was beginning to catch up to all of them.
He noticed her staring and muttered, “Not the soldier I used to be.”
“Still the best one I’ve got,” Kaylin said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Ian just grunted again, but he put on an extra surge of speed toward the end of the tunnel. They burst out into the sunlight, squinting against the sudden brightness. Another fence blocked off the exit of the canal, but a gaping hole had been cut in the middle.
The fence backed up to a gloomy alley between two warehouses. Aside from bags of garbage piled around a rusted dumpster, it looked empty. Kaylin strained her ears, searching for the sounds of conflict, but they seemed to only be coming from behind her and above her, from the doomed people on the freeway.
“Looks clear,” Kaylin said, lowering her voice to ensure no one heard.
“As clear as we’re going to get,” Ian replied, and he pulled himself out of the murky water of the canal, scrambling toward the fence. Kaylin followed closely behind with Jaxon in tow, and they made it easily through the hole.
Jaxon was shivering from the water, which had soaked
him to the waist. Kaylin wished she could ask Ian to carry him again, but she knew it wasn’t possible. The old man’s body just couldn’t take the weight.
“We need to head west, and then north,” Kaylin said.
“Are we close to the pier?” Jaxon asked, his voice quiet and shaky.
“Yeah, we’ll be there really soon,” Kaylin said. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that at least three miles still separated them from the pier.
He nodded a couple times, trust filling his gaze as he stared up at her. Kaylin flinched, suddenly regretting the lie.
There was a momentary pause in the explosions, and it was enough for a new sound to reach them. Splashing. Kaylin cursed and surged forward toward the alley, dragging Jaxon as fast as she dared. Something else had entered the canal tunnel, and if it was careless enough to make that much noise, it was almost certainly a Syndicate soldier.
“We need to go,” she hissed, urging Ian forward.
They hurried to the end of the alley. Kaylin constantly glanced back and forth to check both ends for enemies, her heart pounding in her chest. Ian gestured for her to stay back as they reached the street, and he quickly swiveled around the corner, sweeping his shotgun back and forth as he scanned for any threats on the street. Old or not, his military training hadn’t left him.
“Clear,” he called, waving them forward.
They hurried out onto the street, which was bordered on both sides by warehouses. The area was abandoned, but they kept to the shadows of the buildings, ready to leap into an alley for cover.
They continued jogging through the desolate area for another mile, the sounds of conflict growing dimmer with each corner they turned. It seemed the Syndicate hadn’t completely infiltrated this section of the city, because they only saw people, not Syndicate soldiers. Explosions still pierced the air, but they no longer shook the ground under Kaylin’s feet.
Smoke clogged the air, turning their gasping breaths into coughs. With every step they took, more of their adrenaline faded, and exhaustion gripped them tighter. But Kaylin refused to give in to it and kept up her desperate charge forward.