Women of the Grey- The Complete Trilogy

by Carol James Marshall

  Then it let go and Kia felt it being pulled away quickly. Holding her hand, Kia pushed her forehead into the floor. She’d never want to know anything again. She’d never be nosy or go where she shouldn’t. If only she could leave here with Sunny. Kia swore to herself and the blackness that surrounded her that she’d never question the world around her again.

  Something took hold of Kia’s shirt, pulling her up and dragging her. It was a hand, but it felt strong. Strong like a super hero. Strong like a monster. Kia didn’t fight. She couldn’t see and she knew she’d wouldn’t win.

  “I’m just a kid….”

  Teresa

  Teresa watched the Original enter the lab as if she and Uni did not exist. The Original was a devil, a beast, a wolf, it was anything, but not of her. Not relation to Teresa. She would not claim them. She would not be them. From this moment forward she had removed herself from what The Grey is.

  Her allegiance had died many scars ago. Now all was different. Teresa felt exorcised from the Originals and The Grey. She took in the human part of her. Teresa took her stand for humans. Decidedly siding with the part of her that came not from The Grey but from her human father.

  There was nothing left of Teresa that came from the Originals. They had raped it all away. The evidence was in her scars. Hiding behind a cabinet, Teresa snuck peeks at the Original walking the room. It would get to Uni soon and call the others. If that happened, she’d be caught. Entrapped yet again.

  Dead was fine for Teresa. Dead was better than this. To be erased, taken care of, tucked firmly in was something she welcomed. But she couldn’t go just yet. There was that small chunk deep within her emaciated frame, the tiniest of cravings. Teresa needed at least one hit, to dig the knife in her hand deeply into the skull of at least one Original. She must do this. Teresa required payment for her hours in Uni, her scars, the fear and loathing, everything. Everything they had put her through. To death Teresa would gladly walk, but she was taking one of those bitches with her.

  Teresa snuck behind the Original, making sure to keep centered in the back of its head. This was a gamble. She thought that maybe since its eyes wrap almost completely around there was no hiding, but there was still a space, though small, that Teresa guessed was a blind spot.

  If she stayed in that blind spot, it might not see her tip-toeing behind it. She managed to get directly behind the Original, and it was working. Shakily Teresa raised her hand, admiring the glint of the knife, this knife that she would forgive. It was this knife that had cut her open again and again, but this knife would also set her free.

  Hand moving forward Teresa cheered herself on as the hand that gripped the knife, drove it deep into the back of the Original’s head. She expected the knife to bounce off, not be able to penetrate the shark like skin. Instead the knife slid in as if it wanted it just as much as she. The Original, was flesh. It was killable.

  The Original jumped forward just a bit. Teresa quickly grasped its neck shoving the knife in deeply. A sound came from the Original that hurled Teresa back, landing her on the floor with a hurtful thud. The sound was high-pitched and made Teresa’s teeth hurt.

  The deafening noise didn’t stop Teresa finding her inner power that was fueled by pure hate. She jumped up, ran forward, and gleefully twisted the knife into the skull of the Original finding joy in watching its legs kick out while its hands flayed about. Teresa smiled down at her boney hand on the grip of the knife and dug tunnels in the Original’s head. This killing was a catharsis. Teresa had done nothing with her existence on this planet, but now she did this one thing. There was one less of these grey things, and that was something to take pride in.

  The Original’s body started to slide towards the floor and Teresa followed it, not wanting to let go of the knife. She still needed the knife. It was going to cut her open one last time. Sitting next to the body of the Original, Teresa refused to look over at it. Instead she kicked it away from her with her bare feet then pulled the knife out of its skull, wishing to kill a thousand more.

  Exhaustion covered Teresa. There was still work to be done, but her body could not budge. She could feel herself slip away, collapsing. She wasn’t strong. Teresa was wrung out. She felt and looked like an old dish rag. Holding her knife up to her, Teresa cuddled it, stroking it with her fingers. She could feel the need to purr gather inside of her. It was both an instrument of torture and a useful tool for Teresa.

  Holding the knife slightly away from her, Teresa spoke to it. “You have just one more thing to do for me. Then I’ll let you go.” She pulled it back in. Her hands and arms were trembling violently, her eyelids disobediently closing. Things were getting fuzzy. Rolling over just a bit, Teresa raised one of her legs and gave the Original’s body a swift kick. It didn’t budge, and Teresa smiled as she drifted off to sleep.

  Lisa

  When they walked back into their hotel room, the group of three Z9Ts were now six and there was a buzz in the room. A buzz that stopped the moment Lisa walked in. The new three quietly gasped, sucking in their breaths. As if they had seen a dinosaur, a dragon, whatever mythical creature Lisa could think of.

  Lisa sucked her own breath as well. She was the mythical creature. Lisa was the urban legend. They had been hunting her for so long, and now she was standing in front of them. Lisa couldn’t help but wonder if she was their nightmare.

  She probably was, since they had in fact gathered in mass to catch her kind. The goal of Z9T was the extinction of her kind. She had to be their monster under the bed. Their thing that goes bump in the night.

  Lisa sat wishing she could bring out her real face. Terrify them and then laugh as she threatened to slice them up while they quivered. She wouldn’t do that. More like she couldn’t do that to Israel. It would upset him, but that’s not what she cared about. Lisa did not want to disappoint Israel.

  If she did the things she wanted to this group, they’d run. Then the mission wouldn’t take place. Israel wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, knowing that The Grey still existed. He’d become nervous and jerky again, all because she scared off his warriors. If she did that, she’d lose him again. Lose him for real. Lose him for good. She would swallow her own pride, hate, humiliation, everything and anything just as long as he was happy.

  There was a small squeaky voice inside of Lisa. The voice of defeat. The voice of loneliness, whispering that Israel was going to leave her anyway. She knew that, but when he did, Lisa wanted him to leave her whole again. Emancipated from Superior Mother’s gaze.

  It didn’t matter anyway. She knew this. Lisa knew this just as sure as she knew that the sky was blue. She wasn’t going to survive this ordeal.

  Lisa licked her lips. “I’m Lisa.” The new three stared. She could see hate in their eyes. Lisa knew then that she was the monster. A hated monster. No matter what she did, or didn’t do, for them they would hate her, but their feelings didn’t matter.

  Israel placed his hand gently on Lisa’s lower back. She could feel his pulse then, the heat of him. He was safety, warmth, everything delicious to her. The slightest of touches from Israel just confirmed her grief.

  “It’s tonight,” Israel said, looking at Lisa. He then smiled and walked away to stare at a map with Maria. Lisa was left standing there with the new three. She was inclined to jump forward and say “BOO,” but instead she took her book, the car keys, and a pillow. She was going to camp out in their stolen car for a bit. Pretend that she had some privacy.

  Stepping into the back seat of the car Lisa cringed. Right about now she figured a human girl would cry. She’d cry out of loneliness, hate, the unfairness of life, the impossibility of love, being an orphan. That is how Lisa regarded herself, as an orphan, something created then disregarded. She couldn’t cry though. Empathetic to humans or not, Lisa wouldn’t shed a tear.

  The tearless part of her was The Grey. She knew this, could feel it racing around her skin. Women of the Grey don’t cry, won’t cry. The Originals knew destruction without care. Witho
ut the dreaded empathy that Lisa carried around like a tumor in her very being.

  Instead, she’d read this book about a boy that somehow, Lisa wasn’t sure how, lived in a Giant Peach. She liked that it was illogical. It took Lisa away from logical and put her in a place of faith. A place of whimsical belief. Plus, the boy suffered in his own way and that made Lisa feel better. She wasn’t the only one to bear pain in this awful world.

  It was then that Lisa laid down in the backseat, closing her eyes and trying to imagine the world where the Women of the Grey had come from. Was it a whole planet that they occupied or just a region in one awfully cold planet? Full of frost and hate.

  Lisa thought that the Original Women of the Grey were like a plague on a planet. A wash of savage aliens, ripping, shredding, and killing as they went along. Shivers ran up Lisa’s back as she thought of the Superior Mother of that time. Ring on hand, gore on her fingertips pointing into the direction of the next village, town, culture they would decimate.

  The planet or place was cold. Lisa thought that was a fact, considering her ability to bring on a frost and her body temperature being frigid. The Women of the Grey’s home planet must be as cold as ice.

  None of this comforted Lisa as she tried to soothe herself in the backseat of the car. She had the capacity to decimate everything in her path as well. She knew this. Lisa had already chosen that path and who would be her victims.

  Opening her eyes, Lisa realized she had fallen asleep. There was banging on the car window. Sitting up, she unlocked and opened the car door and took a step out. Israel stood with a group of people, some from before and some new. All were dressed in camouflage and black, all had guns and weapons attached to them.

  “Its time,” Israel said this to Lisa so incredibly nonchalantly, as he might say “coffee’s ready.”

  Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, The pretty follies that themselves commit’- (The Merchant of Venice – Act 2, Scene 6) William Shakespeare

  In the Grey there is no day or night. All light is artificial and the ticks of clocks mean nothing. To some it could be morning, to others evening. A meal at daybreak was the same as a meal at midnight. The Women of the Grey worked like ants, never much noticing the outside world till they were cast out to it.

  On this night, the Women of the Grey, the mothers, were lost in their own tears, traveling the roads of Red. Ninety-nine percent of them were high on human blood. They ingested it and Red became a fierce narcotic. There would be no escaping their addiction now. It would stick to them until the end.

  The Grey is well hidden within a mountain on the outskirts of San Diego, near a highway that leads to the desert town of El Centro, California. Millions have seen The Grey, but not noticed it. The Grey was tucked away, sweet, cozy and full of both lies and secrets. The secrets and lies of The Grey sat in layers, one on top of the other. Soon, very soon, the weight of it would cause it to topple over.

  Lisa left her dingy hotel room in that desert town and traveled with the group from Z9T through the sand, cactuses, and breezy cool night air. Soon they would be within footsteps of The Grey’s front door, and all inside would be too high to notice.

  All except for June, who at that moment had just told Clarissa and Cara that she would be “getting more.” She gave Cara her most earnest handshake and Clarissa a heartfelt peck on the cheek. She smiled at them, displayed pride for their obedience to her, and spat out empty promises of escape for the three of them in the very near future. June didn’t bother to notice that Cara didn’t believe a word she said. Taking her bag, June had waved goodbye and was now traveling down hidden hallways of the Grey. Cara was close behind her, but June, in a rush, did not notice this as well. They both traveled the same hallways that Superior Mother was moving through, now stuck in her true form. Her true alien self was on the prowl.

  Superior Mother’s true self had horse blinders on. She, like most Women of the Grey when they turn to their true selves, was thirsty for a kill. She slithered down her private hallways, tongue hanging over her razor teeth. Her claws sparkled under the horrible florescent lights that traced each hallway. Superior Mother was on a mission, hunting for those kills.

  Fortunately, Kia and Sunny were not in the same hallways as Superior Mother or June. The two girls, however, were lost in The Black, and if they survived, it would be due to luck, nothing more.

  Teresa never left the lab. She was there, naked, frail, looking more like a corpse than a person. But she wasn’t a person, so there was no telling what an abused alien hybrid should look like. Very soon, Teresa will probably wake to noises that will startle her, and her next steps would most likely cause her to grab her knife. Whether she’ll use it on herself or something else is still undecided.

  Superior Mother’s Assistant would soon wake up, look around thankfully, and woefully realize that she was very alive and Superior Mother was still on the loose. The assistant would get up and run out the door to look for her leader, because every story needs a hero.

  June

  Being the Grey’s in-house scoundrel, June knew which hallway she should use to leave unnoticed. These were the hallways used by Superior Mother and the Originals. These hallways were the true trails of The Grey, where all the real action happened.

  Most mothers would never know of these halls. They wouldn’t know they existed, unless they rose in rank or did something wrong. These were the hallways where the wrongs got handled. The wrong looks, questions, or demeanors were brought to these hallways that led to doors only the ring could open.

  Walking through the halls, June let go of The Grey. There would be no trail of breadcrumbs back. This was it for her. Looking at the floor, looking at the walls, the doors, some with doorknobs some not. June couldn’t shake the sensation that The Grey’s security was an afterthought.

  The whole place was ill designed. Nothing made sense. She wished she could go over the blueprint. Run her fingers over it, pointing out every flaw. and there were many. It had a hive feeling to it. Not a home feeling, but a place to build, and build again.

  The Women of the Grey built a cocoon that was nothing more than a tomb. Opening a door, June was almost out when she spotted an Original around a corner. Quickly and quietly June shut the door, scooting over to a nearby supply closet. She opened it and squeezed herself in, leaving the door slightly cracked open, just enough to peek out.

  Holding her breath, June heard the hallway door open. She wouldn’t breathe till the Original passed through. June was always overly brave, that was a fact. If a person could label her, it would be fearless to the point of stupidity. She went where she shouldn’t and said things better left unsaid.

  Not now, though. June knew better than to mess with an Original. She had heard the stories, seen them once or twice, and that was enough. There was a coldness in their eyes. A look of frost. The look of imminent death. They unsettled June. The first time she’d seen one, she’d felt as if the world fell out from under her feet while she was simultaneously being slapped.

  She wouldn’t risk meeting up with one again, especially in a hallway where she had no business being. Taking one deep breath, June waited for the Original to pass. She watched its large eyes study the hallway. Its skin glistened like a snake.

  Mouth open, its tongue hung over its teeth a bit, as if preparing to take a bite. June’s head started to spin. She was afraid. Holding the wall, she watched it pass, noticing that it wore a ring. Superior Mother’s ring.

  When the door at the end of the hall clicked shut, June quietly closed the closet door and locked it. She sat, then laid on the floor in the fetal position, using her backpack as a pillow. Eyes locked on empty shelves in front of her, June waited.

  She waited, just as she did when she was a daughter of The Grey, a tiny lost girl curled up in her bed, watching the other girls giggle, talk, and sleep. She remembered this feeling. As a child June had lived frightened, fear jumbled up inside of her. She had hated it, and vowed that when she was a mother, a Woman of th
e Grey, she would no longer be afraid.

  The feeling of fear was repulsive to June, something that she hadn’t dealt with in years. Now she laid on the supply closet floor, disappointed with herself. How could she allow Superior Mother in her true form to scare her like that?

  Usually, she’d be scheming to use that kind of information to her advantage, but there was more to it than just Superior Mother in her true form. It was what surrounded her that got to June. She had sensed death on Superior Mother. June had killed, on missions and for Red, but had never felt fear for her own mortality before. She had always been the giver of death. When she saw Superior Mother — the teeth, the frigid air around her — June realized that she could have easily been handed a deathly blow.

  It’s not pretty, facing the possibility of death. June sat up, reminding herself that she had avoided it. Death had crossed her path and it did not happen. She’d be the one who would get away. Get away for good this time.

  Clarissa and Cara had been none the wiser when June said her goodbyes. She told them she’d go get more. It was a simple “supply run.” Clarissa greedily nodded and Cara, with her numb stare, said nothing to June.

  Pulling a knife from her backpack, June stood up, adjusted her things, and opened the door. The hallway was clear. She didn’t step out of the supply room just yet. Instead, she listened. Silence. There were no footsteps, creaking of doors, laughing, sobbing, or anything that you’d usually hear in the halls of The Grey.