Neighbors

by Brian Whiting

  lit tunnel, noticing the rancid smell of scorched Zorn drones filling the air.

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  Chapter 17

  It’s Personal

  FENA AND HER co-pilot dropped off a number of UEF Personnel within

  a fenced in perimeter controlled by a military presence of some kind in

  northern California. The western part of the country had only small areas

  with power, and this was one of those areas. She now had an hour to search

  for her family and friends.

  Wasting no time in plotting a course, she got underway.

  While she waited for the craft to arrive at the location, she thought

  about her family, her mother defending her right to leave the house, and

  she fidgeted with a golden ring on her right hand, given to her by her

  father. Modifications on these newer containers included plex-glass panels

  on walls and the floor near the pilot’s seat. She didn’t like watching the

  passing terrain; many times, she would see people waving in the air for

  help, or bloody carnage in various locations. Neither sight gave her pleas-

  ant feelings.

  Had she stayed near ground level, she wouldn’t have been able to tra-

  verse the country in time. But to make time, she increased altitude as high

  as she could before the container complained with squeals and hisses, the

  internal atmosphere venting through the unsealed edges. The container was

  not created to go into space. Since the air was much thinner that high up, it

  offered far less resistance when she increased the craft to tremendous speeds.

  Once she got much closer to home, she descended the craft to a lower altitude and was grateful as warmth seeped back into the craft.

  Her co-pilot looked at her silently, as he knew where they were going.

  He already checked on his family before permission was given to do so. His

  family was killed inside their home. Words couldn’t alleviate concern or be

  distracting enough for Fena, so neither of them said anything.

  She easily found her home in the recognizable city. Much of it looked

  deserted, which gave her odd feelings. Her home looked exactly as she

  remembered when she pulled away in Stacy’s car.

  Their instructions made it clear that none of the pilots were allowed

  to land in obviously-dangerous areas. The Zorn threat was simply far too

  great, and the crafts were too valuable. There were no signs of active Zorn

  in the immediate area, and she needed to know. Carefully controlling the

  craft, she subtly allowed it to collide with the house. The metal box of the

  craft was undamaged, while the fascia of the home had a large crack in the

  wood, the drip edge warped and bent.

  “If they were in there, they would have heard that,” Fena’s co-pilot said.

  Fena collided into the home a second time. Her co-pilot looked at her

  with concern. Without a word, she landed the craft in the front yard and

  exited the container.

  “You know you shouldn’t land.”

  “You did,” she called back.

  She ran to the front door, hoping to get to the truth as fast as possible.

  The door was open, and she walked through quickly.

  “Mom, Dad!”

  Looking around the living room, she realized that it looked pristine

  and undisturbed. She continued to her parents’ bedroom. Clothes were

  tossed and laying around in a confused mess. Suitcases were missing, but

  their vehicle was still in the driveway.

  “Mom! Dad!” she shouted louder, as she checked the remaining rooms.

  No one.

  She exited the house, both relieved and concerned. She entered the

  container and took her seat once again, her co-pilot carefully studying

  her face.

  “If they aren’t there, and suitcases are missing, they are still alive,” Fena

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  said out loud, as though saying it would make it true. She plotted a course in a spiral out of the city, on the off-chance that she might find them wandering around. She piloted the craft close to the roofs and buildings, her

  eyes peeled. She spotted a drone walking through someone’s backyard,

  oblivious to the craft passing overhead. Then she saw several others casually

  walking through various yards and over houses.

  Without explanation, the Zorn drones stopped, as though on com-

  mand, before they rushed as one towards a particular house, stabbing into

  the building with a swiftness that left Fena feeling uneasy. Most gained

  entry through various locations or openings they created for themselves,

  and they disappeared into the building.

  A minute later, all the Zorn drones exited the building with the same

  eerie calm they exhibited before rushing the house. One of the drones was

  dragging a bloody sheet behind it.

  Fena watched the Zorn, thinking, absently following the Zorn with

  the bloody sheet. She grinned wolfishly as an idea occurred to her, and she

  turned to her co-pilot.

  * * *

  “On final approach.”

  Major Grissom looked at his watch as he listened eagerly from the TIC.

  The squad of soldiers quietly entered the residence and set up their equip-

  ment, barely sparing him a glance.

  “You’ve got about five minutes,” Brandy said from the bridge of the

  UEF Destiny, which was hovering about a mile up in the sky.

  “Copy, five minutes,” one of the soldiers replied.

  Major Grissom looked over at the large display screen, which carried

  video from the Destiny’s view of the scene from above. The house looked like one of many in the middle of a well-to-do suburb. A cup of coffee sat

  in front of the Major, but he had yet to touch it, and it was in danger of

  getting cold.

  “Set,” a voice called from the many speakers in the TIC.

  “Let’s move it!”

  “Three minutes,” Brandy added, like an afterthought.

  Major Grissom watched as the soldiers exited the house and headed

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  west as a large group of walking Zorn approaching from the east, occasionally entering and exiting other houses at random.

  “One minute,” Brandy called out.

  The first Zorn appeared on the screen as the soldiers disappeared from

  the other side.

  “That was too close,” Major muttered to himself.

  “Contact!” Brandy called as the first drone entered the yard of the

  target residence.

  “Activating!” a soldier answered, pushing a button.

  Screaming erupted from the house the soldiers exited. It sounded like a

  young, scared little girl, bawling for her mother.

  “You soldiers need to move it!” Major Grissom said into the unit’s

  comm traffic.

  “Moving!”

  The Zorn quickly engulfed the house, frantically creating their own

  entrances as they chased down the screaming.

  “What’s the count?” The Major asked.

  “Fourteen,” Brandy replied.

  As soon as the last drone disappeared in the house, the Major yelled

  into the radio, “Now!”

  The house exploded in a huge fireball, causing significant damage to

  the surrounding homes. A small shockwave rattled the area, blowing the

  soldiers’ clothing violently. The TIC exploded in cheers as technicians, sci-

  entists, soldiers and various other UEF members witnessed the ex
plosion.

  The Destiny continued to watch carefully in order to pick off any pos-

  sible Zorn survivors. After a minute, it was clear there were none.

  “Excellent idea. That’s easily repeatable,” Major Grissom nodded. “Get

  on the horn and share the success with anyone who is listening.”

  “How was that better than just letting the Destiny cut them up with the lasers?” Jorge asked, sitting directly next to the Major.

  “We can hit the first drone easy, and sometimes two. But the Zorn

  scatter in all directions with amazing speed, and sometimes they burrow,

  get inside houses, under trees. Sometimes they attempt to hide in the wide-

  open spaces, far apart so that we can’t really get more than one at a time.

  We think they sense cooler temperatures and higher humidity, thinking

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  that those places will offer protection. In many cases, they do. Anyway, we would be lucky to kill a third of the group. This time, we just got all

  of them.”

  “Great!” Jorge replied.

  “The thanks goes to one of your pilots. Fena someone.”

  “I’ve heard of her,” he replied with a half grin.

  “Hey, do you know when Alex and Cindy are due back?” Jorge asked

  the Major.

  “We should hear something soon,” he said, glancing at the empty mes-

  sage board.

  “What’s the deal between you two?” Major had stopped everything he

  was doing and watched Jorge intently.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I get the impression you’re not pleased to be in service.”

  Jorge looked at the Major and glanced around the room to see if anyone

  else was paying attention. “I don’t know. When we started this thing, it

  brought us closer together. It made us a family of brothers. Now it drives us

  apart and Alex… well, let’s just say, Alex isn’t a saint.”

  The Major regarded Timmy for another moment then continued on

  with his activity.

  * * *

  Cindy looked at her very short supply of options and sighed heavily. With

  little motivation, she picked the rum, grabbed a stack of paper cups and

  stuffed them into a gym bag. The cabin on her ship hadn’t been cleaned for

  some time, and it was in complete disarray.

  Memories of Mason’s service, along with thoughts of other people no

  longer with them, were heavy on her mind; at some point, she stopped

  wiping away the tears. Unsure of what the day was going to bring, she

  didn’t even bother to finish brushing her hair or look at a mirror before she

  left her cabin. She didn’t even look to see if anyone else was in the hallway; she easily could have trampled into someone.

  Cindy walked up to the door of her destination and stood outside it,

  staring at the door for far too long before she banged on it loudly with her

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  fist. She shifted her weight onto one hip as she waited for the door to open, but nothing happened. She sighed again.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—

  “HEY!”

  Cindy turned to her right, immediately angry over the interruption.

  She stared down a lieutenant commander; she couldn’t remember his name.

  Her eyes had a thirst for blood.

  This particular lieutenant commander was a large man intimidating at

  six-four, standing frozen in shock. At the moment, he appeared a deer in

  headlights rather than someone to be reckoned with. He looked at Cindy,

  who looked more like a crazed lioness protecting her young than a cap-

  tain. Without saying another word, he slipped back into his cabin, eager to

  extricate himself from the situation.

  Cindy turned to the cabin door and looked at her bottle. At the risk of

  breaking it, she hit the door with the bottom.

  BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.

  The door swung wide open. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Cindy barged in, pushing past Alex, and sat down on the sofa.

  “I don’t have time for you right now!”

  “You don’t have time for anyone anymore. You look like crap, by

  the way.”

  Alex shut the door and gave Cindy the once over, cringing inwardly.

  “Well, you look amazing.”

  Cindy returned his exposed upper teeth and opened the bottle.

  “It’s like noon or something, isn’t it? A bit early to be hitting the bottle.”

  Cindy ignored him and filled two paper cups of rum. Carefully holding

  the open bottle in the other hand and without a word, she raised a filled

  cup to Alex and waited.

  Alex shuffled closer and took the cup with exaggerated effort. Without

  pause, he downed the contents quickly. “Okay, that was great. I’d like to be

  alone now.”

  “So would I!”

  Alex looked her in the eye and hesitated. Cindy put the paper cup on

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  the table and drank from the bottle. Her head involuntarily cocked to one side as she looked him over. “You can’t hide in your room and wait for

  problems to solve themselves.”

  “Damn, Cindy, we had services for our loved ones, what, hours ago? I

  think we get a bit more time than that. Besides, at least I’m my not burying

  my problems with drink.”

  “Most people do. You don’t. You don’t think I miss Mason or Amanda?”

  When she said her name, Alex worked his jaw and clenched his fists,

  taking a step closer to her.

  “We have a responsibility—” Her eyes fired like coals.

  “Oh, shut up! Amanda is dead. I failed her and everyone else. Don’t

  you get it? I failed and got everyone killed. There nothing left to do except

  die alone.” He couldn’t hold her gaze and turned away.

  “You win the most pathetic line ever award!”

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Cindy stood and walked to the door, opening it without question.

  “You’re late!”

  Gloria stepped in, looking well-dressed and resplendent, and gave

  Cindy a quick look over. “You’re a mess.”

  Alex buried his face in his hands and sat down in the swivel computer

  chair bolted to the floor. Cindy returned to her spot on the sofa, and Gloria

  joined her. Cindy reached for the bottle and handed the filled paper cup to

  Gloria. She took the cup and held onto it, looking at Cindy with curiosity.

  “What is it you expect me to do here?”

  Cindy groaned and looked to Alex, who appeared disinterested in

  what they were doing. He was staring at the wall as though it was far

  more interesting.

  “Alex, you’re hurt, it’s about as obvious a statement as ever. So it’s true

  that you need to heal. But there’s still thousands of people dying every day,

  and each day that goes by without a clear message from you or the UEF is

  another day compounding despair and hopelessness amongst the world’s

  population. We need you.”

  “Why would anyone want to hear from me?”

  “Because the UEF defended the planet and stood against an interstellar

  power. We are still alive. You are the face and founder of this organization.

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  They want to hear from the one person that had the vision and ability to do something about the enemy that tried to invade their planet.” Cindy took

  another drink from the bottle.

/>   Gloria rolled her eyes and looked at Alex. He looked like he just woke

  up from the floor. “Mr. President.” Gloria paused and let the phrase sink in.

  Alex looked up at her with bewilderment.

  “I remember you calling yourself President of the UEF not that

  long ago.”

  Alex’s eyes welled up, and he buried his face again.

  “Alex, you’re not the best leader I’ve ever met. I mean…look at you.

  You’re a wreck.”

  Cindy looked at Gloria. “You’re not helping.”

  “You’re arrogant, self-centered, at times you care little about others’

  feelings, and at other times, you display tremendous compassion. It’s con-

  fusing, really, like you’re bipolar, but on the positive end of the spectrum.

  You seek little advice, and you handle some situations terribly. I mean just

  bad; horrible even.”

  Cindy kicked Gloria’s leg.

  “To be honest, if it weren’t for your friends and their ability to create

  this marvelous technology, I doubt you would have made a blip in the

  global order of things.”

  “Oh, please be more honest!” Cindy said sarcastically.

  “Like it or not, you have become the driving force behind this orga-

  nization. You’re an icon of inspiration and hope to billions. Your method

  of open transparency is so refreshing, the people feel they finally found

  someone worth supporting. Now is the time to act. People are dying and

  vulnerable. Show them you care about them. It’s time to not just act like a

  leader; it’s time for you to be a leader.”

  Cindy looked from Gloria to Alex and back again. His head lifted

  slightly as he stared off into the distance.

  “Alex.”

  He turned to look at them. “I loved her, and I let her, her family

  and everyone down. How can I look at the people… and hold my head

  up high?”

  “Leadership isn’t about accepting praise, adoration, being friendly or

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  even being right. It’s about showing others the way through the darkest of situations. People look to those who have struggled or faced harsh difficulties to have the answers for getting out of problems. It’s during those—”

  The lights in his cabin turned red, followed closely by an extremely

  annoying alert tone. Which sounded what Alex imagined what a mouse

  falling to its death might sound like.

  “This your alarm?” Alex shouted over the noise, looking at Cindy,