Repossession (The Keepers Trilogy)

by Rachael Wade

  “Wow, nice.” I felt the frame, rubbing my finger over the lenses to wipe away a smudge. “Not bad, Phoenix.”

  “Twinkies.” He slid his pair on and adjusted the gun across his chest. “Told you. Breakfast of champions. No luck with antibiotics, but plenty of water.”

  “Good.” I slid my glasses on. “Better than nothing.”

  The morning sun beat down on us as we ascended from the Black Hole, and I was instantly grateful for the sunglasses-and-Twinkie swap. It wasn’t ideal to be moving around in the open during daylight like this, but we had to get moving if we expected to make any headway west.

  We walked for hours, stopping only to take a sip of water or catch our breath, sticking to wooded areas and developed but deserted industrial areas as much as possible, opting for places that offered us prime hiding sites. Every now and then, we’d run into a pack of foragers or families on the hunt for the nearest Black Hole. We’d point them in the right direction and move on, helping when we could and staying out of view when Jet felt uneasy.

  Being on the open road proved more dangerous, due to Keeper Agents and human travelers more than anything else. If we weren’t running from patrol brigades, we were attempting to steer clear of hungry, sick, desperate travelers who weren’t afraid to eat the meat clear off our bones. The Invaders’ ships passed by above us throughout the day, and we had some close calls with some of them on foot, but thanks to Jet’s navigational skills and killer aim, we escaped each run-in with nothing more than a few minor cuts and bruises. He was damn good with grenades, and between the two of us, we could nail some pretty clean shots.

  “Where’d you learn to shoot?” he asked me, right after we’d collided with a group of Invaders. They’d been sneaking around an old gas station, where we’d met them head on while trying to rummage through the station’s storage room for supplies. We laid them out with a grenade and three neat shots to the head, dodging their Aqua Bombs and Venom Spheres with ease. I already learned what kind of threat the Aqua Bombs posed, and according to Jet, the Venom Spheres were worse. They didn’t kill you on impact, but instead paralyzed you, allowing the Invaders to transport you and then do whatever they pleased. Apparently, the group we ran into couldn’t decide whether they wanted to drown us or paralyze us and take us back to their playground.

  Sweethearts, aren’t they?

  The moment we took them out, we stuffed as many of their toys into our backpack as we could.

  “Shooting was a dad-daughter thing,” I said. “As soon as I was old enough, he started taking me to the gun range. We went every Saturday. Religiously. His dad was a cop, taught him all he knew about the firearms they used in the field. I loved it. Great way to blow off steam.”

  “Amen to that,” he said and chuckled, stopping beneath a massive oak tree to plop down and drink from his canteen. After the gas station incident, we’d nestled ourselves away in a nearby wooded area along a main highway. “I knew shit about guns until I volunteered for service and went into training. I was going to school to be a pilot before all this.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked with genuine interest, planting my hands on my hips while I stared down at him. Seeing Jet as my captor was the only thing that felt foreign now. Denying the desire to get to know him would feel like betrayal.

  I couldn’t do that.

  He lifted his shades and nodded. “Yup, flying was my life. Nothing like being up in the air. It’s quiet, peaceful … nothing can touch you. You’re safe from the world, and you’re in charge of this graceful machine, gliding thousands of feet above everyone and everything … fucking beautiful. Just you and the sky.”

  “Sounds nice right about now. Ever been in one of those things?” I pointed to the ship passing above us. Through the trees, I could make out the round steel exterior, could hear the eerie hum of the engine. The Invaders’ ships reminded me of submarines—the most high-tech, efficient submarines on the planet. Complete with round porthole windows, they were built like tanks, incapable of being taken down by any of our military birds or ground troops.

  They’d all tried.

  Immediately upon invasion, the Invaders had disabled most of our weapons technology and satellites. That was the little bit I’d picked up on the news and through word of mouth, but seeing these stealthy, elegant machines float above us in the flesh, it was all very clear.

  They were a superior species, in all the ways that truly counted. Smarter, faster, and equipped with defenses we couldn’t begin to match, they had us exactly where they wanted us, and we knew it.

  “Nope, haven’t been inside one of them. Only seen them on the ground.” He raised his canteen to me and I accepted it, taking a careful swig of water. “You can sit for a few. We need to rest before sundown so we can travel through the night.”

  I handed him the water and took a place at his side, resting my head back against the tree trunk. The bark was soft and moist, cushioning and cradling me against it. “How’s your hip?”

  “It’s been better. How are the cuts on your back?”

  “That medicine helped. Thanks for sharing.”

  “Need some more?”

  “Nah, I’m good for now, thanks.” It occurred to me then that he hadn’t mentioned his sister Hera since last night, or what he intended to do if he never found her. What would I do if he didn’t find her? What if he did? Where did that leave me? When we reached San Francisco, if we made it that far, would we just split up and go our separate ways? Near the water was the last place I wanted to be if those things were gathering there, but I’d go if it meant finding answers.

  If it meant helping Jet find Hera.

  Sitting here, beneath this majestic oak tree under the hot afternoon sun in the middle of nowhere, the concept of time, present, and future, were all blurred. What was time if you didn’t know whether you had it?

  When you weren’t sure what you had to live for?

  I’d never felt more out of my element than I did at that moment, and I knew the only way to shut down my tired, overworked brain was to attempt to snag some shuteye. I let my lids fall shut, my head roll softly to the side until it landed on Jet’s shoulder. A gentle whisper whipped through the surrounding trees, tickling their branches, telling them secrets. It had been so long since I’d relaxed like this and allowed myself to listen to the whisper of the wind. So long since I’d given into it and said to hell with the invasion, the attack, rumors of life on Earth coming to an end.

  So long …

  “Skylla!” Jet’s voice ricocheted off something in the distance, and I woke with a jolt, realizing his shoulder was gone and that I was slumped over against the oak tree trunk, alone.

  “Fire!”

  My vision went from fuzzy to crystal clear in a split second, and I was on my feet, spotting Jet straight ahead, running toward me and aiming directly over my shoulder. Machine gun in his left hand and a Glock in his right, he started shooting. I pitched all of my body weight away from his fire, swinging around to aim in the same direction.

  There in the late, tangerine sunlight, amidst the rich emerald trees, stood a mesmerizing pack of Invaders, their elegant skeletal frames swaying as if they would wither away and turn to dust with the slightest brush of impact. Their stance and orderly triangular formation, however, said differently. They were in complete control, even their slightest movements calculated. Their long fingers were strong, their grips precise while they snapped outward to shower us with a barrage of Aqua Bombs, each container spitting sharp and fast from their palms, heading straight for us. They hit surrounding trees as we dodged them, lodging into the trees with thick thuds, while others whizzed past us and soared outward into the distance. One clipped my shoulder and I screamed and ducked away just in time.

  As I pulled the trigger and delivered relentless shots to the creatures’ heads, a warm, moist hand stopped me, closing around my throat from behind. My arm fell to my side, my fingers struggling against the sheer power of the creature’s grip to keep the gun from dr
opping to the ground. The back of my neck warmed at the touch, sending a shooting, tingling sensation straight down my spine. A flash of something serene filled my vision. I could feel it, cool and wet … and salty. I blocked out the tingling sensation, focusing only on the vision before me.

  Water.

  Lots and lots of water. An ocean.

  The flash snapped and disappeared, and the tingling sensation returned, spreading down my spine and igniting my skin in pure, rich warmth. Jet screamed my name, the muffled booms of his guns drowning out his voice, and I cried out in horror when the Invader’s face came into view, moving to stand directly in front of me. Its hand still carefully clamping my neck, its dark gaping holes stared back at me while its shrill screech pierced my ears, its ghoulish jaw dropping in a howl. Liquid ooze drooped down its chin in a river of clear discharge, and my stomach flipped at the sight, sure the creature had hailed straight from the depths of some morbid, watery abyss. I watched helplessly as its hand revealed a silver sphere, its other hand still clasped tight around my neck, the tingly feeling sending more sparks up and down my spine. My entire body felt hot now, an oven heating up from the inside.

  Then the unthinkable happened.

  As the others ceased fire to glide in behind it and join it in its appraisal of me, the pack’s screams united in a single high-pitched yell, and almost reverently, they all began to retreat backward, lowering their weapons. Jet’s gunfire ceased, and the clammy creature’s hand released my neck, its eyes boring into me cautiously while it lowered the silver sphere. The pack rapidly glided away from me and Jet and left us there in the woods, hearts pounding and feet planted firm in the soil. All went still, and my only conscious thought was still the same—the one Jet had instilled in me so relentlessly.

  Keep your finger on the trigger.

  FOUR

  This was the first time since we’d begun running together that we’d run from silence. Nothing was chasing us, but our feet told us otherwise. They couldn’t carry us fast enough through the woods, away from the formation of Invaders that had just ambushed us, only to let us go.

  “What the hell was that?” I choked out, my breath heavy as I sprinted through the brush. Jet was running ahead of me, his arms lithely pushing branches out of the way as he moved. He ducked and weaved with sleek precision. If I hadn’t been so frantic, the sight would’ve been mesmerizing to watch while I followed in his path.

  “Don’t know. Never seen anything like it.”

  “Where are we going? Maybe we should stay and rest while we can.”

  “Can’t. They might come back.”

  “Jet—”

  “Skylla, keep moving. We have no idea what they’re up to, and we’re not going to wait around to find out. We need to get to that railroad.”

  “No, hold up.” I sprang forward and snatched his shirtsleeve, forcing him to turn and face me. “I need to catch my breath. I’m not … not a machine like you. I don’t have the stamina, and how are you not at all freaked out by what just went down back there? I need to slow down, need to think.” Especially about the water I’d seen. The ocean. I couldn’t shake the image from my mind. Peaceful, yet so unsettling. I couldn’t wrap my brain around the strange contradiction.

  Jet’s earnest face searched mine, then the perimeter behind me, his eyes unable to focus on anything for longer than a few seconds. His brow was sweaty, his nostrils flaring. “Think later. I’m just as freaked out as you are. But I also know that whatever just happened, it wasn’t an accident. They retreated for a reason, and whatever it was, it’s not good for us. Come on, I’ll carry you.”

  He started forward to reach for me but I refused him, jutting backward. “You can’t carry me and run like that again.”

  “Yes I can.” He held out his arms. “Come on, we’re wasting time.”

  “But your hip is busted up … I don’t want you to.”

  “You’re tired. We have to run. You don’t leave me much of a choice. I don’t mind, come on—”

  “I said no.” I stepped around him and started to push leaves and branches to the side, carving a path for us to continue on. The effort was nowhere near as graceful as Jet’s, but it would get the job done. “I’ll keep going, but I need you to slow down. I don’t think they’re coming after us. If they wanted us, they had their shot.”

  A dry huff escaped his lips. “You know, I’m starting to think you were sent to me, with the sole purpose to drive me crazy.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but it looks like you’re stuck with me. Now if you keep making things more difficult, I’ll get pissed and have to turn up the crazy notch to dangerously disturbing levels.” I sent him a small smile over my shoulder.

  “Is there anything that doesn’t piss you off?”

  “Yeah, flowers and sunshine. But there’s none of that to be found since this world fell into a hellhole, so you won’t see me cracking rainbow smiles or going easy on you anytime soon.” Before I could say another word, I was lifted up off the ground and heaved into his arms. “Hey. Put me down!”

  He resumed his stride, using his shoulders now to clear our path. Deep azure eyes found mine. “For the record, there is still sunshine.”

  “I didn’t mean literally.”

  “Quit fussing. I’ll make you a deal. I run and you rest, at least until the sun goes down. Then you can stomp around and pout all you want.”

  I squirmed in his hold, but it didn’t take me long to give up. His grip was too strong. My arms laced around his neck and I glared up at him. “That sounds more like you having your way until you decide to let me have mine.”

  “Yeah, that’s about right.”

  “I don’t want you to carry me.”

  “Well, what you want and what’s actually going to happen are two very different realities.”

  “What kind of convoluted crap is that?”

  “True convoluted crap. Now stop busting my balls and let me carry you.”

  I sighed, making sure it was long and overly dramatic.

  Jet shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips while he pried his eyes from mine to focus on the task. “Piss and vinegar, baby. Piss and vinegar.”

  We forged on like that for a while, my perception of time no less disoriented than before. The only thing that helped set me straight was the sunset. As the sun lowered in the horizon, a rush of energy suddenly washed over me, the imminent darkness fueling me with a sense of urgency. “It’s time to hold up the other part of your deal,” I said, wiggling in his arms. “I get to stomp and pout now.” One look at his face told me he was struggling. His eyelids were heavier, his cheeks and lips pulled down, as if I wasn’t the only weight he was carrying.

  I knew I wasn’t.

  Finally setting me on my feet, he slipped his backpack off his shoulders and zipped it open to pull out the map Lillian had given him, along with a flashlight. He adjusted something that looked like a flashy, high-tech compass, pressing buttons while counting and mumbling quietly to himself. “About twenty more miles. You sure you can walk?”

  “You sure you can?” I eyed his hip, fingering the hem of his shirt aside to take a peek. It was bloodier than before, and the bruising wasn’t making me feel any better about his condition. His face gave away no hint of pain when I traced the edge of the sopping wet bandage, his stoic expression so indifferent, I really wouldn’t be surprised if he was a machine.

  “I’m fine.” He nudged my finger away and reached for my gun, pulling it from its holster to hand it to me. “Finger on the trigger.”

  I exhaled a steady, deep breath through my lips, my bangs fluttering over my forehead. “Yes sir,” I mumbled, giving him a saucy salute.

  “There won’t be much cover when we make it out of this cusp of trees. We’ll have to move fast.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Jet gave me a tired nod and started forward again. His flashlight began to flicker and I grew nervous. The batteries wouldn’t last forever, and I didn’t doubt
that they were right up there on the list of priority needs, like antibiotics. He shut it off with a curse, and I worked to keep up with him, listening for his movement to stay right on his heels.

  A branch snapping somewhere to the left caused us both to freeze, our breaths audibly hitching.

  “Could be an animal,” I whispered, so low I wasn’t sure if he could even hear me.

  “Not likely. Haven’t seen one since …”

  Another snap echoed in the night, followed by a soft rustling of branches.

  His hand found mine in the dark and slid over my fingers, checking to make sure I was ready to shoot. His flashlight turned on but he didn’t let go of my hand. Slowly, he guided the light to the left, keeping it low to the ground first, before raising it to illuminate the perimeter. “Well I’ll be damned,” he said, shining the light on a beautiful Siberian Husky. Its coat was dirt-ridden and matted, its blue eyes bright and feral with hunger as it stared back at us. Its mouth was moving, chewing on something, its gaze trained on us.

  That gaze ensnared me and without hesitating, I moved toward the dog.

  “Wait,” Jet snapped. “Wandering up to stray dogs in the woods is on my what not to do list.”

  “There are maniacal humans and an alien species running around, and you’re worried about a dog?”

  “That’s not the point, Skylla.”

  “He’s housebroken,” I said, still moving, keeping my gaze on the animal. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “You don’t know that. If he’s starving … Skylla! Damn it, will you listen to me?”

  I didn’t respond, just kept inching forward, stepping over a large log and some stray branches, turning my palms out and upward before bending down before the dog. A shiny silver tag caught my eye. “See? A collar,” I said, a little louder this time, carefully reaching under the dog’s chin to take the tag in my hand. A phone number and address was engraved across the silver, so faint in the stingy light that I couldn’t make it out. The dog flinched as I ran my finger over the words. “Ssshhh, it’s okay, buddy. You hungry?” I swiveled on my hip and dipped a hand into my pocket, pulled out a small fistful of dried-oatmeal leftovers from our stay at the Black Hole. Lowering the crumbs to the ground, I petted his head as he hurried to lick them from the soil, his breath rapid as he inhaled the meager offering. I half expected Jet to criticize the effort, aware myself that we didn’t have much food between the two of us.