Here

by Zolendz, Christine

  “Your…alien mask is rejecting you?” I stammer, stepping back. It’s hard to form words and sentences when all I’m thinking about is the way his fingers are slowly continuing to slip down my neck. There’s something magnetizing about his touch and I need to keep it off me.

  “Kate, I’m just as human as you.” The words come out in a cracked whisper and his hand follows me as I move away, reaching my collarbone. His fingers splay across my skin, making me think of things I shouldn’t be thinking about. I can’t stop the images. Insatiable. Sensual. Erotic. His hands pressing into my skin, digging his fingertips into my flesh. Breathless voices and the sounds of his low moans close to my ear. My nipples swollen and hard against the tight muscles of his chest, sending that sweet ache straight between my thighs. Full wet lips covering mine, devouring every inch of me. His long, hard, thick…

  I swallow hard. Is it some sort of magic? Having this armor on makes everything heightened. My skin feels alive. I feel alive. And all I can form in my head are thoughts of his body against mine, his hard flesh sinking deep into mine, and losing myself in his touch.

  “Soldiers!” my father shouts loudly, sticking his head out of the tent. “You have less than twenty minutes before I take the enemy’s base.” My eyes dart in the direction of my father’s orders, my thoughts still lingering on the warm hand touching my skin and the pulsing ache between by legs.

  “I didn’t come here to hurt you or your people,” Rune leans in and whispers into my ear. I swear I feel his lips softly graze over its shell. My shoulders tremble lightly. Hell, he’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?

  “But you did,” I say, trying to step away, but again unable to do so. His hands slide up and practically crush my shoulders. I like this feeling too. The savageness of it. The hard grasp binding me to his skin. I wonder how hard his thrusts would be, how big and thick he is. Shit, I feel like I’m losing my damn mind. I make another attempt to get away, but it’s no use.

  Even without his stupid armor fully on, his strength is far greater than mine. He pulls me into his chest, even though I’m trying to push away. My mind and body are waging a war against each other. “Rune,” I whisper, my voice betraying my desire, “stop touching me.”

  I push away hard, watching his nose flare out and his lip lift, baring his teeth. He nods, his face a blank expanse of shock. He looks down at his hands, blinking. “There must be some override to the system. Something that won’t make us feel this…strange…thing.”

  I find myself nodding too. My head bobbing stupidly as I watch his hands, wishing he’d just put them back on me.

  “What is it? This feeling?” he asks, looking up from his hands to my eyes.

  I’m losing it; all the steady, straight thoughts in my head. “Lust?” I half sob out, forcing my hands to stay fisted at my sides and not grab on to him.

  His chest is rising and falling quickly. “We could use this lust. You could go in there and get Pious. He wants you, the woman he made everyone think killed me. You could lure him out. Just act lusty for him.”

  His words are an icy cold splash of water.

  “What?” I stammer. He wants to use me as bait?

  “Take off your armor there. Use your…flesh…control him with it,” he says, stepping closer to me once again. “Even I find it somewhat…alluring without my armor on.”

  I quickly back up, anger rising like fire in my throat. “I’m only going in to get my sister. I can’t use anything to control anyone.” Even he finds it somewhat alluring? What an asshole.

  He looks at me and shakes his head. “Right. Sorry. I thought you were tougher than that. My mistake.” He looks past me like he’s through with the conversation. “You’re just a little girl. You probably wouldn’t be able to do it.”

  My face heats instantly. “Go fuck off into one of your little lab cups, dickshit,” I snap, stepping up closer to him. “Why would you want me to go and save the bad guy anyway? Let that metalsucker die when these crazy people attack.”

  He levels his face to mine, bringing us nose to nose. “This isn’t going to get better, Kate. No one is going to come and rescue this world. You think someone is going to swoop in and put everything back together for you? How? Who? You’re wondering when your saviors come, and I’m telling you there are none. There are people worse than Pious in there, and I need to know who they are.” His hands cup around my neck and he’s pressing me into the wall.

  Where the hell did the wall come from? I look around frantically. It’s one of the bases of the bridge—not that it makes any difference. I just for some reason need to know where I’m about to die. Or have probably the most intense orgasm of my existence. Shut up, Kate! How the hell can that be a thought in your mind right now?

  “I’m not a hero. I don’t want to be. The weight of the entire world is on your shoulders, not mine. My sister is my priority,” I say, focusing my thoughts together, grasping and clawing at his hands.

  “After you get her,” he whispers, leaning in and gently kissing the corner of my lips. His hands soften their hold and his fingers are like fire against my skin, trailing a blaze of need right through my body.

  Focus on Claire.

  Don’t think about his lips, or his hands, or his…

  Focus.

  Focus on what’s been destroyed because of them.

  “I hate you,” I say, shoving him back.

  “That’s not what your emotion status says,” he smirks, stepping back, but his hands fall onto my shoulders.

  “I’m not even wearing the mask,” I hiss.

  “You like me. I can tell by your blush.”

  I nudge my shoulders away from him. “Your extraterrestrial crap isn’t working on me,” I lie, walking back toward the tent. I strain to keep my thoughts focused on getting Claire. Besides, I need to get ready for whatever it is that may happen when I get back inside the camp in that mask—like my own death and all. “Here’s a good plan,” I say, stopping and looking back over my shoulder at him. His eyes are looking at me like he wants to rip me to shreds. “You go in there and find yourself another girl to say all this stuff to while I go rescue my sister.”

  He pushes off the wall quicker than humanly possible and slowly smirks. “You do have some good ideas in that head of yours every once in a while,” he smiles, adjusting the gun on the side of his belt. It flips out and falls on the ground.

  “You’re gonna shoot yourself, Asshole.” I don’t even know why he needs one anyway. I’ve seen those metalheads shoot lasers out of their fingers.

  “Yeah? And you’re not going to be able to rescue anyone without me.”

  “Actually, I can. Watch me,” I say, leaving him there, every metal pore in my body screaming for him to chase after me.

  Thank God he doesn’t.

  23

  Kate

  My father squeezes my hand; I feel the warmth through the metal like fire. “Private, you’re getting exactly ten minutes to extract the target and get out. Staring at 1900 hours. Any questions?”

  I have about a thousand, but none that he can answer with any base of reality to them. “No, sir.”

  “Put on your gear, soldier. You’re about to go into enemy territory.”

  Breathing in deeply, I shift the mask over my face. Immediately, I feel the sharp sting of it seeping through my skin. I swallow back the pain, fisting my hands at my sides. Why am I doing this? Spasms rock under my skin, clawing into my muscles with razor-sharp precision. I hold the image of Claire in my head because that’s my focus—anything after that I will have to deal with. I bite back the pain.

  When the stabbing agony finally subsides and I’m able to form words again, I turn toward my father. “Sir, is there any way that...” But my words die on my lips. My father stands next to me, holding that shredded teddy bear in his arms. There’s a stick of a lollipop poking out the corner of his lips and he’s noisily slurping at it. To think that he was once my father, a man with a responsibility, a man who led a plato
on of others into war. He’s nothing more than a ghost now, just like this world; a ghost of a time before all this happened.

  “Wow, what a cool mask. Are you going somewhere, Kit-Kat?” he asks with a childlike lisp that makes me momentarily shut down and stare blankly at him.

  “Uh, y-yeah. I’m…I’m going to go get Claire-Bear,” I say in a trembling voice.

  “The world is scary now, isn’t it?” he asks, hugging his bear tight.

  “Yes, it is,” I whisper, trying to ignore the burn in my eyes.

  “Will you help save us?” he asks with wide eyes. God, I hate to see my father reduced to this. This personality has shown itself every day since my mother’s death. My eyes fill with tears and trying to keep them from falling stings my nose. I wish I didn’t have this heavy weight on my chest. I wish this didn’t all fall to me. I wish my father was really here. I want someone to rely on. I need someone to help me here. I don’t want to do this all alone.

  A large, heavy hand settles on my shoulder and Rune’s voice tickles my ear, “Our faceplates would heal him.”

  “If he lived through putting one on, right?” I snap. “I’ve seen what they’ve done to sick or dead people. And I know what you thought it would do to me. Did you see my sister? All she had on were the pants and her hair was falling out!”

  His nostrils flare as I stare at him. He seems to be reining in anger. I can see the flicker of dozens of emotions showing in his eyes. I see guilt written all over his stupid face, even without the words popping up. But pop up they do. Guilty as charged.

  “You should put that mask on,” I say, low. “I’m not sure you’re dealing well with all the feels. You look like you give a shit about what I think and I know you sure as shit don’t.”

  “That’s not true—”

  I flip up two metal middle fingers. “This is me giving absolutely zero fucks about your answer, Rune.” Spinning on my heel, I head straight for the top base of the bridge. An icy blast of wind follows me up.

  Behind me Rune must have secured his mask on, because our misled group of alien resisters scatter into the darkness immediately.

  Then something from above me yanks me right off the ground. My heart almost explodes in my chest as my feet kick into the air. My body rises higher and higher, finding no ground beneath me. A pop of light flashes behind my mask and a scroll of words crosses over my vision. Targets and pinpoints light up before my retinas. Activation: Mode of Transportation: Aerial.

  “Rune! Let me down!” I yelp, arms flailing. What the hell is he thinking?

  “You need to trust me,” his voice sounds on the inside of my mask.

  “Get out of my head!” I growl as panic swirls in a tornado through my brain.

  That’s when he lets go.

  The ground comes up fast while the world spins around me in slow motion. Every muscle in my body stiffens painfully as I wait for impact, but it never comes. Instead, I’m hovering an inch or two off the ground. And I think I might have pissed in my suit.

  “Push up, away from the earth,” his voice says softly.

  I push out my hands, slapping them flat against the cold ground, and thrust.

  And suddenly, I’m flying.

  I’m crying too, but that’s beside the point. The point is, I’m flying, like in the sky, and the broken world lies dozens of feet beneath me. A melting vision of firelight and dirt-soaked faces looking up at me. Out ahead, a wild splash of confetti stars surrounded by a metallic-stained sky, and it literally steals the breath right out of my lungs.

  * * *

  Landing isn’t so easy.

  I collide into the side of a wall with such force I hear ringing in my head for the next few minutes and warning bells are tickertaping on my display. Rune lets me sit still while he silently climbs the enormous walls of the fort to scan inside. The information instantly feeds through my display. It’s giving my own health status and telling me I’ll be at full health in less than two minutes. “Are you freaking cyborgs or something?”

  “Something,” he answers under his breath.

  I roll my eyes and pull myself up off the ground. I’m dressed like the enemy, so why all the sneaking in? While Rune is pulling up diagnostics and texts of gibberish blink quickly past my eyes, I head for the front gate and walk right in. Screw it. I’m getting my sister and leaving.

  This suit makes me feel invincible. I’m using it.

  And I’m not giving it back either.

  When the world rights itself, I’m putting it right on eBay.

  Smoke and snow hang thick in the air. Hidden behind the enemy’s armor, I silently move toward the center where huge fires burn, shooting flames of strange colors into the night air. I watch for a moment, mesmerized. The colors are brilliant. I’ve never seen hues like this before.

  Padding softly over the snow, I shift slowly through the men, hoping my disguise stays hidden in the shadows and smoke. Inside the armor my body heat rises the way the sun would warm my skin on a hot summer day. The tips of my fingers and toes tingle with warmth and I feel that if I really wanted to, I’d be able to blast out rays of heat and light from them. I feel powerful.

  Dozens of masked men stand around me like futuristic sentinels. Their armor glowing wickedly against the blazing fires, throwing off long jagged shadows and swirling mist behind them. Concealed faces, indiscernible features, with dark deep wells for eyes and a pulsing beat of electricity that hums over their gears and skin. Do I look the same right now as this strange metal becomes part of my flesh? I can feel it now settling in deep, tattooing itself right through my muscles then rooting down even farther, seeping into the marrow of my bones. It’s like some sort of robotic magic. Something terrifying you’d only feel in a nightmare. One that also feels strangely familiar.

  Through a cluster of guards on the other side of the fires, I see the opening to the inside of what must be an enormous gathering hall. Feminine voices whisper, echoing over the grounds. I hear their low murmurs and soft cries and I pick up my pace. None of the guards, aliens, cyborg assholes—whatever they are—notice me.

  I slip on a patch of ice as I reach the entrance and grab out along the door to steady myself. I must have gasped out loud, because a small group of girls huddling closest to the doorway dart their eyes in my direction. My body stills, not wanting to alert anyone else of my presence, and after a few moments their eyes drift back down, hope lost. Despondent.

  I find myself not caring.

  Not caring about the fate of the women.

  The hollow-eyed women who stand shivering in the dim gymnasium, clutching their arms around themselves for warmth. A pathetic gathering of humans huddling together.

  Stats of vital signs crawl across my vision, introducing me to each individual woman by their heart rate and oxygen levels. Thermal heat sensors color their features into rainbow cartoons—automatizing them into colors and numbers and nothing more.

  Nothing more.

  Something’s wrong.

  Codes zip across the screen. Numbers. Symbols. Ages. Weights. Levels of fertility. Sicknesses. Sexually transmitted diseases. Hormone levels. Estrogen levels. Menstrual cycles; highs and lows. Every inch of my skin heats, the metal searing my flesh so painfully I fall back against the doorframe.

  What feels like electricity surges under the metal covering my arms and legs. My own health stats say I’m updating and I’ll be optimal in less than five minutes.

  Static pulses in my ears and waves of light dance through my view.

  Behind the lights are the creatures with leaking eye ducts.

  I can’t remember why I’m here. Why I’m looking at these women. I’m supposed to be here to find someone, I think. I just don’t know whom.

  Under the balls of my feet, I feel a slight tremor of the earth. In the middle of the tin can I’m wearing, I feel the quickening beats of my heart. They’re turning frantic. But I don’t know why.

  The crowd of girls gasp in unison. They’re afraid of something. My di
splay lights up bright with shades of blue. One of them drops to the ground and the most gut-wrenching sobs rip up from her small body. Her mouth is open, stretching out harshly over her face. Her neck is corded and her eyes bulge dangerously from her eye sockets. The numbers over her head display a racing pulse and warning words flash in red. Her screams are primal and her oxygen levels seem to be depleting as quickly as the movements of her torso.

  Beneath me, the ground shakes violently. The girl’s body convulses with spasms. I still don’t recall why I’m here. I don’t remember what I was supposed to be doing—yet there’s a heaviness to it—an intangible importance.

  I’m standing over the crying, writhing girl when someone grasps my arm and whirls me around.

  General Rune’s face takes up the entirety of my screen, his faceplate discarded. His irises shine blue, soft. Why would his faceplate be off? Why would he bare his face? Can he not comprehend the danger of these parasites if they attach themselves to your mind—or worse—to your emotions? We need to find healthy females of this species to mate with.

  “Kate,” he whispers, bringing his face level to mine. “Take off your faceplate so you can see.”

  I try yanking my arm back, but his grip is too strong. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about; he doesn’t understand how dangerous this world is. This is why we’re here. This is why we must fight.

  His hand tightens over my arm and the other reaches out toward my jaw. I twist away, rocking my head back, but his hold stays.

  Words zip across the screen. Bright red and flashing.

  I keep trying to yank away. But the lock clicks on my jaw and my faceplate lands by my feet. “Leave me—” Air fills my lungs and I blink through the burn in my eyes. “Rune? What—?”

  “Keep it off, they’re changing the controls, making you think things,” he says, baring his teeth. “They’re already attacking and we need to get her out of here.”