by Patti Larsen
Reid drops the gun deliberately in front of the colonel and smiles. “Not if we join them first.”
He leaves the dying man there, ignoring him as he cries out after him. “Come back here and pull that damned trigger! Boy!”
Reid catches up with Marcus beside the lab. Neither says a word, listening to the colonel’s fading shouts until he falls silent. Marcus then points down the length of the building at the door.
Reid can’t believe their luck. Lying across the threshold is another man in a white coat, this one older, balding head wet with his own blood. Even better, this side of the building is in darkness, the perimeter lights burned out. The sounds of the battle go on, but are muffled by the shelter of the building.
It’s almost too easy, which makes Reid nervous. But luck stays with them long enough to make it to the door, swipe the keycard in the lock and lift the dead tech high enough so his thumb triggers the lock.
Reid and Marcus slip inside, letting the door hiss shut behind them. It’s dark inside but that doesn’t stop Reid.
“Stay here.” He goes searching, grateful Marcus follows his instructions. The lab is small and packed with equipment, none of which is helpful. Reid spins in frustration, unable to make sense of anything when his eyes fall on a large metal footlocker. He dives for it and checks the lock. Uses the keycard again.
The top pops up. Reid eases it open and looks inside.
A row of thin plastic tubes lie nestled in a sheet of gray foam.
“Marcus, over here.” He follows Reid’s voice and is almost immediately crouched next to him. Reid looks around, sees a plastic bag under one of the tables, retrieves it. “Hold this.” Reid starts dumping the tubes into the bag.
“You may want to be careful with those,” Marcus whispers. “They are stored in fairly hefty protection, right?”
Reid pauses, then continues dumping. Maybe some will break. And he doesn’t know what kind of effect the stuff will have on normal people let alone him, but there is no time for delicacy.
He lifts layer after layer of the foam out, tossing the thick gray stuff aside. The handles of the bag are stretching out by the time he reaches the bottom. Instead of risking the plastic ripping, Reid hangs on to the last handful.
“That’s it,” he says. “Let’s go.”
“Reid.” He pauses and looks at Marcus. “There is a hell of a lot of drugs here. How many hunters are there?”
It’s not worth thinking about. “We have to get back to the others.”
Marcus just nods and gathers the bag to his chest, quietly following Reid out.
They both know it doesn’t matter, numbers are unimportant at this point. There could be fifty or five thousand but the result is the same.
They still have to try.
***
Chapter Twenty One
Reid makes his first major mistake. He exits the building without feeling around. And walks right into a fight.
The end of one, actually. A hunter straightens from gutting a soldier right outside the door. It looks at him and grins, either not recognizing him for what he’s becoming or not caring, because it lashes out with its bloody claws, so fast he only has time to blink.
And snap one of the tubes in half with a tinkle of breaking glass. He tosses it up, powder dispersing into the hunter’s face, just as the tips of its talons touch the peak of his shoulder. The effect is instantaneous. Where a hunter once stood, shark teeth shining, silver eyes staring him down, is a twenty-something guy with blonde hair and dark eyes. Those eyes fly wide, face turning immediately red, ordinary fingertips brushing down Reid’s arm as the guy collapses, jerks once, and dies.
Reid wavers, weakness washing over him, a dizzy spell almost sending him to his knees, while he watches white foam pour out of the dead ex-hunter’s mouth and shudders. Marcus crowds behind him, breath coming in harsh, terrified gasps.
“I guess we know it works,” he says. “I can’t believe it. They’re just like us.”
Reid nods, still unstable. Looks and feels around. Is suddenly afraid of the tubes in his hands and wonders if he will die like that if one of them were to break by accident. But he can’t thing about that or go there now. They have a job to do.
He is very relieved when his balance comes back, but he’s lost his hyper senses. Reid feels around inside himself, desperate, knowing their chances have just been cut by a vast amount now that he is normal again. And he is normal. The fire in his body is gone, the access to those enhanced senses missing.
The drug has done its job on him too, it seems.
Reid shakes himself and tries to be grateful he’s alive as he follows Marcus back the way they came, only succeeding in feeling even more vulnerable than he did when he was first kidnapped.
His terror returns in a rushing surge. Reid isn’t sure he can make his legs move past the paralyzing grip it has over him. He hadn’t realized how much of his confidence came from the dust. Now he does and knows if they are going to survive he needs to get some more and soon.
Otherwise he is certain his fear will consume him and he will fail them all.
He is so wrapped up in his personal battle he simply follows where Marcus leads, flinching at the now infrequent spats of gunfire, the occasional shriek of the dead and dying. The battle is winding down around him and all he can think about is how scared he is.
He is shocked when Marcus turns to him, shoving him forward and through the steel door. Reid is suddenly surrounded by kids and his relief at being safe is so strong his eyes well with tears.
He stays silent, shaking and fighting for control, arms wrapped around himself, still clutching the tubes. When he doesn’t speak up right away, Marcus fills everyone in. Reid feels eyes on him but refuses to look at them, hoarding all his strength for himself, resenting the pull of their need. He has to have it even more now, can’t share what remains of his strength with anyone if he expects to survive much longer. Reid’s guilt fights back, his inherent desire to protect them trying to get his attention but he just can’t go there yet.
He has a quiet and private mental breakdown as Marcus talks, more than happy to let him take over, show the kids the tubes, tell them the plan while Reid’s aching heart tries to come to terms with what he’s lost and what he is so willing to do to himself all over again.
“You want us to fight back with these?” Milo’s tone is so skeptical it jerks Reid out of his private hell and makes him pay attention.
“They kill the hunters instantly,” Marcus says, for once patient and speaking gently. “We’ve tested one. Well, Reid has.” Giving credit where due has never been something Marcus was good at. That helps draw Reid out as well. “It’s amazing how it works.”
“Fine, the drug works, kills the hunters, turns them back into kids like us. Great. How nice for them. Or not. That’s not the real issue.”
“What is?” Cole is staring at Reid but he can’t bring himself to speak up.
“Am I the only one who thinks we’ve done enough?” Milo looks around, finding support on all sides, including from Cole. “Why can’t we just leave it for the soldiers?”
Reid’s gut clenches, begs him to keep quiet, to stay out of it. But he can’t, just can’t, and the words come out of him before he can stop them. “Because,” he whispers, “the soldiers are dead.”
That shuts them up. Makes more tears rise in Reid’s eyes. No one is coming to save them. Not that they ever were. But this time it’s so true it cuts him deep. They are the only ones who can act. Even if the army brings in more soldiers, it will take time and the hunters could be gone by then.
Marcus clears his throat softly, gets their attention back. “We can run,” he says. “But the hunters will be free if we do. And they’ll never stop. They can make more of themselves, remember? And they have to eat.”
“Marcus is right.” Nishka’s voice is quiet, but everyone listens while Sarah hugs her around her shoulders. “There’s no one else. And if this stuff works as well as he say
s it does, as long as we stay together it should be okay.”
“No,” Reid speaks up again, wishing the war between his mind and his heart would just leave him alone. “We have to split up.”
“Reid?” Leila’s hands capture his. He finally looks up into her eyes.
“If we stay together they’ll figure it out faster. Find a way to kill us without getting close. There’s enough guns out there they could probably pick us off, no problem.” As he speaks, the tension inside him eases. He feels like he is finally himself again. Despite the terror and the understanding of how much he had changed, he welcomes it when his heart wins out, at least for now. He has no illusions that if presented with a chance to take more dust, he will and without thinking about it.
“You want us to go out there, on our own.” Milo’s skepticism is harsh but Reid is used to the boy’s attitude by now.
He forces his shoulders back, drawing deep breaths into his lungs to shove aside his fear. “If we’re alone, spread out and calling them to us, we’ll be able to get to more of them than if we’re in a group.”
“Reid is right,” Marcus says.
“What if we don’t get them all?” Cole’s eyes shine blue in the faint light. “This might be for nothing.”
It’s true. But Reid still believes, even through his now normal fear, they have to try.
“Maybe if we kill enough of them it will make a difference.” Marcus shrugs. “It’s all we’ve got. We won’t make you help,” he goes on to the crowd of anxious kids. “If you choose to run, no one will judge you. But I’m doing this.” He helps himself to a large handful of tubes, stuffing some down his shirt. Leila is next, her slim hands full of plastic as she tries to slide them into the front pocket of her jeans. Reid isn’t surprised when Kieran comes forward after that, only to have the poison he takes pulled out of his hands by Sarah and Nishka.
One at a time, with growing resolve, each of the kids takes a handful. Even Milo, who sighs at last and helps himself. When the bag hangs empty, Reid draws a shaking breath.
“When you get out there,” he says, “run. Keep running. Don’t stop. Call out to the hunters, taunt them. They hate that.” He swallows hard past the lump rising in his throat, wondering how he ever survived being this emotional while wondering if he’ll ever get used to being normal again. “Don’t let them get close. Break the tube and throw it in their face. Got it?”
He hates looking at them, giving them this task. All the while they nod to him, frail and worn bodies ready to run and do what he asks of them, despite the costs.
“We’ll all meet up again,” Leila says, surprising Reid with the idea. “At the gate. When this is over.”
They agree immediately, a rush of need to accept this could be true, that they might see each other again. None of them have illusions, though, Reid is sure of it. They must know their happy reunion isn’t likely to happen.
He has a moment where he doesn’t think he can stand it, when he wants to turn to Marcus and say forget it, let’s just go and take the pack with us, find the interstate and freedom. But it passes and he doesn’t and one by one they start to leave.
As they do they share hugs, whispered words, quick looks. The air is heavy, the mood solemn despite their promises to meet up. Reid is right. None of them expect to survive.
This is the only chance they have to say goodbye.
The first to come to him is Cole, his blue eyes moist but his lips able to smile. “Thank you,” he says, arms locking around Reid’s chest for only a moment before the boy is gone out the metal door.
Milo’s fuzzy black hair tickles Reid’s nose when the kid throws himself at Reid and squeezes hard. “Thank you.” And he too is gone into the night.
“It was an honor.” Kieran’s hand shakes Reid’s. “Well done, brother.”
Sarah’s lips brush over his cheek. “See you.”
Nishka just presses his hands between hers, overcome with emotion, lower lip trembling. She tries to speak but leaves before she manages to get the words out.
Leila is last, pausing with him at the door. They listen together to the sounds of the dying battle for a moment. He meets her eyes when she reaches up with both hands, turning his face to hers and kisses him gently on the lips.
“Drew would be so proud of you.” She blinks back tears, smiling. “I know I am.”
Leila runs off into the night while Reid’s throat aches and his vision swims before him.
***
Chapter Twenty Two
When Reid finally pulls himself together and steps outside, he discovers he isn’t alone after all. Marcus is waiting for him.
They stare into each other’s eyes for a long time, the cool night breeze washing over them, detached from the horror happening on the other side of the compound.
“Thank you,” Marcus begins but Reid shakes his head.
“Don’t, please.” His heart can’t take another loss. He thought that was true when Drew died. But now Reid knows it for sure. He doesn’t want to care about anything, not the kids he just sent to die, the girl he loves and hasn’t told or the enemy turned ally standing in front of him.
Marcus falls silent, moves to leave. “I expect to see you at the gate,” he says. “When this is over.”
Reid nods. “You too. And Marcus.”
Marcus waits. “Yeah.”
“In case you were wondering. I heard everything you said.” Seems fair to tell him that.
“Yeah,” Marcus says.
Reid draws a breath, not sure why it’s so important to ease Marcus’s conscience but doing it anyway. “It’s okay, man. I forgive you.”
Marcus chokes on a sob, stills. “Be safe.”
That was why. Not for Marcus, though Reid knows he did some good, but for himself. To heal his own heart and bring him the rest of the way back.
At last, Reid is alone, as he was in the beginning and wished to be so many times. Only this time he has a plan and a rifle to carry it out. But his speed is stunted, his senses lost. He is ordinary again and the prey he hunts is not.
When he finally moves, it’s to turn and creep along the side of the building. Just as he does, something sharp catches his side. Reid cries out, staggers backward. A hunter hovers over him, his blood on its claws.
Reid brings the rifle around and pulls the trigger. The hunter staggers, falls toward him, raises its arm to cut him again. Reid fires the second time but the rifle jams, useless in his hands.
He strikes out at the hunter, hitting its arm, keeping him safe by inches. Reid is cursing and sobbing, knowing he has no choice, wishing things were different and he was strong again, just as he cracks open the tube and shoves it in the creature’s face.
It’s a girl it turns out, her wide eyes locked on his as she falls on top of him, body twitching and convulsing. He feels something hot and wet on his shoulder and shoves her away in revulsion, the white foam from her mouth running down his arm. Reid gets to his feet, clutching at his side and the blood that runs from the cut. He’s lucky, must have been turning just as she struck. It saved his life. But the pain is intense and he can feel the blood loss dragging on him already.
There is no going back for him now. Without a gun, wounded, even his trusty knife gone to Syracuse, Reid has to do what the other kids are doing. Lure the hunters and take them down and most probably die doing it.
So be it. He starts to jog, the pain making it hard but forcing his feet to move, his legs to carry him.
“I’m here.” It comes out as a whisper at first, barely audible, just enough for him to hear, though he knows the hunters should pick it up too. “I’m here.” Louder this time, like he’s finally understanding that he still has a voice. “I’m here!” Shouted, called out to the creatures he hates and envies as he picks up speed. “Do you hear me? I’m here!”
Reid sees flickers of them, emerging from behind tents and the surrounding buildings. He laughs, his side aching but his heart finally free of the fear that crippled him. “Over
here, freaks!”
Reid turns and runs.
***
Chapter Twenty Three
Two hunters dive at him from the darkness, but he is ready for them. One broken tube is enough to kill them both. Reid doesn’t pause to witness the deaths of the two young men, now human again.
He’s got more running to do.
Another one leaps in his way and dies as quickly. Reid is panting now, his side soaked with blood right down to his foot, enough that it squelches into his sneaker with every step. His strength is leaving him but he can’t stop, won’t stop.
Reid has hunters to kill.
The envy he felt is gone. The terror is too. Only his need for survival remains, his old friend that has kept him alive until now. But Reid hasn’t been badly injured before in this game, has managed to stay whole and mostly unharmed, able to keep running.
It seems even that small shred of luck has left him behind.
Reid runs for the gate, sees a knot of soldiers battling a handful of hunters, back lit by the fire that consumes the front end of the camp. A large truck lies on its side, a hunk of twisted and useless metal, the source of the earlier explosion. He doesn’t pause or stop to think about stray bullets or flying claws, simply snaps three tubes in half and tosses them as he barrels through the fight on his way to the fence.
He has no idea why it’s so important to get to the enclosure but he needs to return there. His instincts drive him to go back, to go back to where this started, though he will never make it that far.
One of the large, furred creatures leaps at him, knocking Reid down, sending him tumbling, the tubes scattering away from his clutching hands. Hot, stinking breath and strings of saliva suffocate him for a moment, the thing’s teeth descending toward his throat. Reid’s fingers find a tube, latch on. He jams the plastic into the creature’s open mouth where it shatters.