Her heart began beating harder and her breath felt thin. She sucked in another lungful and tried to calm down. Getting worked up wasn’t going to help anyone—least of all her. The air in the coffee shop shifted and she realized conversations were stopping as the whole place grew quieter. She looked up to see what was going on and saw everyone staring at the front door. She turned slowly in her chair, holding her breath. The weird vibe caused her survival mode to kick in and her heart raced.
A homeless woman stood just inside the door staring in Sydney’s direction. Syd blinked at her a couple of times to process what she was seeing. The woman didn’t seem homeless after all. She was dirty and disheveled, but her clothes were well made and somewhat fashionable, or at least they were before they were torn and covered in mud. The woman’s blonde hair was matted and dirty and her face sported fresh scratches.
At first Syd hoped that the woman was staring at someone or something else, but when their eyes locked she couldn’t deny it. The woman was focused on only her and Syd knew then, the woman was like Pan and Short Man, aka, Randall—she was a host. The blonde's chest heaved as she panted and Sydney watched a thin stream of drool slip over her bottom lip and drip onto the floor. A teenage girl near Syd muttered a low “ew” which broke her shock. She stood slowly, as if to not frighten a wild animal, and stuck her phone in her back pocket. The whole time the blonde followed her movements but she didn’t react.
Unwilling to turn her back on the woman, Syd inched towards the door closest to her, only about five feet away. But, as soon as her had touched the handle, the woman shot forward with a snarl. Sydney turned and crashed through the door, nearly running over a man who was on his way in. She took two steps outside and a heavy weight slammed into her side. Everything went black as she hit the ground with a snarling man on top of her.
Chapter Seven
Sydney’s vision returned as her head bounced off the sidewalk, but her breath was cut short by vise-like fingers wrapped around her throat. She willed her eyes to focus but almost regretted it when she locked eyes with the man on top of her. He looked like a demon with blood shot eyes, bared teeth, and flaring nostrils. He was making a high pitched keening sound as he squeezed her throat. Her head felt like it was going to explode but she forced herself to think beyond the terror and pain. If she was going to survive this she needed to find a way to get him off her.
Syd tried to pry his hands off her throat, but it didn't faze him. She tried kicking her feet but his weight on top of her prevented her from putting much force behind the blows. Her vision was swimming and her head was throbbing and her lungs were screaming for air. A flickering light swept across her vision and for a delirious section she thought it was Tinker Bell come to help her. Why isn’t anyone stopping this? Knowing she wouldn’t be able to loosen his grip, she changed tactics. She curled her fingers into claws and racked them down the man’s face. She cut angry red lesions into his skin and he finally reacted. Despite her panic, Sydney nearly jerked her hands away from the man’s face as her sore fingernails flared with pain.
Sydney continued clawing, aiming for the man’s eyes, lips and even his nose. Finally, he squealed and let go of her neck with one hand. He grabbed her wrist but it was slick with his blood and she was able to twist it free. As he made another grab for her, an arm wrapped around his throat and pulled him backwards. When his grip on her throat was broke she gasped for breaths that wheezed and whistled. Her whole body jerked with violent coughs. Unable to stand, she crawled on her hands and knees. She sucked in gulps of air that felt like they were filled with glass.
For the first time, Sydney saw the scene around her. There had been maybe thirty people in the coffee shop and it looked like most of them were either fighting or cowering in fear. From what Sydney could tell, there only seemed to be three hosts. The people who weren’t being attacked had their phones out either recording the action or talking to someone—Sydney hoped it was the police. The tiny coffee shop looked like ground zero for the apocalypse. Run! She stumbled to her feet and nearly slammed into a car parked at the curb with the driver’s door hanging open. On the ground next to the car a man lay on the pavement and the blonde who had originally attacked Syd was sitting on top of him slamming his head into the ground over and over again.
Syd lurched towards the car and wished she could help the man, but the state of his skull told her there wasn’t anything that could be done for him. A snarl behind her made her turn and she saw the guy who had tried to strangle her lunge forward. She practically threw herself into the idling car but a hand on her leg stopped her from shutting the door behind her. The blonde had abandoned her assault on the man and she was trying to either pull Sydney from the car or pull herself to the car.
Using her free leg, Sydney kicked the woman in the face. She could feel the woman's skull through her skin as her boot struck again and again. Even in her panic, Sydney's stomach soured. But, she continued to strike until the woman let go of her ankle. Jumping into the car, Syd slammed the door shut and threw the car into drive. The man bounced off the fender and the tires barked against the blacktop. Cutting the wheel hard, she slid into the road barely missing a truck that blared its horn at her. Syd took her first deep breath since the attack began and winced at the swelling she could already feel forming.
Sydney rubbed her throat and tried to figure out what had just happened. One minute everything had been quiet, the next it was chaos. She forced herself to slow down when she heard sirens in the distance and reality began to sink in. At least one person had died at the coffee shop—and she had stolen his car. She would have to get rid of it soon, but it would at least put some distance between her and the crazed attackers.
Who the hell were they, she wondered. Better question—why did they attack us? Me specifically. Shifting her weight, Sydney pulled the phone from her back pocket. She was relieved it didn’t seem to be broken. As the adrenaline wore off she began to shake and had to grip the steering wheel with both hands to stop them from trembling. Holy shit! She shuddered and grimaced as she tried to swallow. The pain was almost a welcome sensation as it meant she was alive and the air sliding through her damaged windpipe meant she was breathing.
Sydney had no destination in mind, she just drove—afraid if she stopped someone would jump her again, break the windows and pull her from the car like a zombie attack in a movie. She had been driving for less than thirty minutes when she finally pulled over. She found a scenic overlook that was blessedly empty since it was dark. She parked, turned off the car and sat in silence for several minutes. I’m alive, she reminded herself. I got away.
She reached up and switched the dome light to off before opening the door. The night was cold but the bitter wind helped bring her out of her shocked stupor. She tucked the phone into her back pocket and shut the car door. Walking to the guardrail, she looked out at Lake Michigan. The black water was choppy but it was still beautiful, stretching as far as she could see. The trees that surrounded the narrow strip of beach below her swayed in the wind and she felt alive and exhilarated. It was amazing to fight and win.
She took more deep, but ragged breaths. It didn't hurt as bad to breathe now, but her head was still hurting and the stinging had returned to her fingertips. She wrapped her hands around the guardrail and squeezed, relishing the ache under her nails. "I'm alive," she said out loud this time. She started laughing, a wheezing, coughing chuckle. She wanted to tell someone she had lived through yet another bizarre event and made it out alive. She would have shouted it across the water if she wasn't still worried about the fact she was driving a stolen car and didn't want to attract any undue attention.
For a while she had been afraid of relying on her friends, of realizing that she needed them. She had been hiding away, running from something she couldn't even identify. But, she had fought off a crazy doctor, killed a monstrous alien, navigated strange encounters, and survived a mob attack. She survived. For once she felt like she was standing on her own—n
ot falling down a rabbit hole. She realized she had been so afraid of relying on her friends because to need them meant if they weren't there she was alone again. But, now, she was realizing she could survive alone—she just didn't have to. She let out another shuddering breath and turned away from the lake, heading towards the bathroom facilities.
Under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom, she looked exceptionally pale and washed out. Her eyes were bloodshot but at least they were dilated normally. She remembered how mismatched her pupils were before and shuddered. Hopefully, this means no more hallucinations. Her neck was ringed by raw and abraded skin but the bruises hadn’t started to form yet. She knew they would though. She would need to buy a scarf somewhere to hide them. Here I am, back to hiding wounds so people won’t pay attention to me.
She needed a plan. She checked her phone again and was disappointed that her friends still hadn't returned her call. That doesn't mean anything has happened to them, she told herself. Sydney ran cool water over her face and realized there were no paper towels after the fact. She dried off on her tee-shirt and brushed her hair out of her face. At least you are alive. You have a car. Friends. And even a little money. You are a hell of a lot better off this time than before. Sydney smirked at her reflection and left the bathroom walking with her back straight and her shoulders square.
Xander
ET finished his beer and Xander gave him another. If anyone needed a drink right now, it was this kid. “I left my dad there, after he told me to leave. I didn’t know what else to do. I went home. I couldn’t tell my mother. I thought her worrying was better than her knowing what was going on.”
“I tried to go to the police again. I thought that they could take care of everything. That Moreno’s money wasn’t enough to excuse torture. I hoped that I would be able to tell my family when I could also tell them that Moreno and the doctors were going to jail. But I was wrong. Apparently, Moreno’s money could buy anything. They told me they would handle it, so, I went back to the compound and waited. One cop showed up. Just one. That’s when I knew, I think. He went in. Was there for less than an hour. Then left again. Alone.”
ET was staring at the counter, taking a moment to gather himself. Or think of the right words. Xander and Shay shared a look. They both were feeling guilty for playing good cop bad cop. At some point during his story, they had both stopped doubting him. “Do you need a break?” Xander asked him.
ET shook his head before continuing. “I snuck back into the compound. The doctors were not in their lab. Neither was my dad. I was going to look around more, but I heard the guards talking and they were getting close. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but something had them excited. They were blocking the way I came in, so I was going out the back. The trash was taken out that way. When I was trying to find my way out, I ran into a room that had cages in it. Big cages. Ones big enough to hold people.”
“Were there people in them?”
“In two of them. In one, there was a guy that I was pretty sure I had seen working security at the compound. He…there was something wrong with him.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know really. But he was making this awful whining sound. Holding his head. He had blood coming out of his nose. When he saw me he kept slamming into the cage like he wanted to get to me. He was crazy.”
When I finally got outside, near the garbage cans, I found this rolling cart, like a wheelbarrow but deeper. I saw a foot sticking out of it. I think I knew as soon as I saw it. But, I couldn’t stop myself. I looked in it. It was my dad. They had cut his head off. But, I recognized his hands. He always took care of his fingernails. Even though he had been gone weeks...his nails were still clean. I didn’t see his head anywhere, so I think they kept it.” ET’s voice was haunted.
Shay looked like she was going to throw up. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.
ET nodded. “There was a head in the cart, but it wasn’t my dad’s head. It was face-down, but I could tell it wasn’t him. It had been cut open. Like you see in autopsy pictures. The top of the skull was open and part of the brain had been cut out. In the front. I just froze. I couldn’t even throw up. It smelled so bad I thought I would...” he trailed off.
“I didn’t know what else to do, so I went home,” he continued, eventually. “I wish I had ran. But I was too numb. The only thing that kept going through my head was ‘no hope.’ There was no hope. Moreno controlled everything. We didn’t have money that he didn’t control. We barely got by. It didn’t matter though. I was going to go home and make my mom and brothers and sister leave. Even if we had to just walk away with what we could carry.” ET's face was haunted and even more pale that usual.
Xander’s gut tightened. Something bad was coming.
ET paused for so long Xander didn’t know if he was going to say anymore or not. Finally, he spoke quickly. “The guards killed my mother and brothers and my sister. I don’t know if they burned them alive or killed them first. But, by the time I made it home, our house was on fire. The rest of the village was too scared to even try to put it out. I was going in after them, but the old man who lived next door stopped me.”
Zak, always the pragmatist, asked a question that Xander wondered but didn’t have the heart to voice. “Why didn’t they make sure you were there too? You were the one asking questions.”
If the question offended ET he didn’t let it show. “I don’t think they cared. They didn’t see me as any real threat. But they wanted to send a message to everyone. ‘Don’t stick your nose into Moreno’s business.’”
“The couple next door hid me in their house. The village gathered what little money they could find and were planning on sending me across the border. I had to go somewhere. I couldn't stay there. I guess they figured if I was going somewhere I might as well go to the States. I didn’t want to go. For the first few days I just stayed in the closet they hid me in. I finally came out when Bennie, the husband, threated to drag me across the border himself.” ET went quiet and sipped his beer.
“Thanks for telling your story,” Xander said.
“I’m not done,” ET glanced at them sharply. “I finally agreed to come to the States because of the men who showed up at Moreno’s compound.”
Shay’s voice was tight and her grip on the counter was white-knuckled. “Who?”
“I don’t know who they were. But they moved like they were used to being in charge. And they destroyed Moreno’s estate. They went in. There were gun shots. Then they came out with boxes, and minutes later the bombs went off.”
“Damn,” Xander breathed.
“I was lucky I wasn’t close enough to get caught in the blasts.”
“Why were they the ones who convinced you to come here?”
“The men were white,” ET said, simply. “By then I was angry. I wanted answers. I wanted to do something," he sighed.
“Oh.”
"I don't know who the men that destroyed the compound were, but they looked...official."
Everyone was quiet to consider what ET had told them. If ET was telling the truth, and Xander was sure he was, then the doctor who took Sydney was probably Robards or Horowitz. “Do you know what was in the boxes?” Xander asked.
ET looked at him for a long moment. “I think it was them. Don’t you?”
"I think so,” he muttered after a while. They were all silent for a while, contemplating the reality of aliens and abductions. Xander got more beers while Shay put her phone to her ear. She had been tapping away at the screen during their silence. An unconscious need for distraction. A moment later she jumped to her feet so fast the stool toppled over behind her. “What the hell,” Xander picked up the stool and gaped at his sister.
“Voicemail,” her voice sounded hollow and breathy.
“What?” Xander’s heart was beating harder.
“A voicemail,” Shay tried again. “From Sydney.”
Xander
“Sydney?” Xander nearly knocked the phone from
Shay’s had when he lunged for it. She didn’t fight him. “What do I push to hear it again?”
“One.”
The sound of her voice stole the air from Xander’s lungs. Sydney is OK. He pushed replay two more times, picking apart her word choices and the sound of her voice. He could hear noises in the background but couldn’t tell where she was, just that she was in public. Her voice was nervous, but strong. The fact that she withheld details indicated she didn’t feel entirely safe. Regardless of her not being specific, he knew exactly where she was. “Millville. She’s in Millville.”
“How the hell did she get there?” Zak asked stepping closer. “Let me listen.”
Xander didn’t want to give up the phone, he wanted to keep hearing Sydney’s voice over and over again, but he handed the phone to Zak and addressed Shay. “She called your cell?”
“No, she called the shop.”
“She probably doesn’t know your number by heart, but could look up the shop number.” His heart was pounding in his chest. Sydney is alive. He wanted to jump up and down and then run to the truck to go get her.
“Sydney is your girlfriend, right? The one you were looking for?”
Xander looked at ET, he had almost forgotten he was there. “Yes.” ET looked at the counter, clearly not as excited as everyone else. “What?” ET clearly didn’t want to answer. “What’s the problem?”
“Well, whenever Robards got his hands on someone…they weren’t the same. They usually died. Or became violent then died.”
“She’s fine.”
“I'm sure,” ET mumbled.
“Hey—” but Xander’s words were cut off by Shay’s hand on his arm. “We don't really know why Robards took her or what he's done to her. She's fine." Clearly, Shay realized ET didn't have the whole story.
Show No Fear (The Dyian Series Book 2) Page 5