by JA Huss
He lifts the device to illustrate his point. "In case ya haven't figured it out yet, these people aren't my ride home."
"So why are they tracking you?"
His eyes twinkle and I know what's coming and push past him at a full run. He's on me before I can take more than half a dozen strides and pulls on my shirt until I slip in the mud and go down hard on my back.
"Stop!" I scream, but instead of stopping he pins my arms down and sits on top of me as I wriggle and kick. His legs twine around mine, essentially cutting off any thoughts of getting him off me that way. Then his eyes are glowing again and his lips are touching my cheek, whispering for me to settle and be calm.
To my surprise, I do settle. I can't help it. I realize too late that the soft words brushing past the sensitive skin on my cheek are controlling me. I can feel the sound waves trickling into my ear canal, making their way to the nerve pathways that control my muscles, and I bring my shoulders up to try and get his face away from me. His lips remain next to my ear and I am just about to fully give in when the tech device, forgotten and left on the ground during our struggle, sounds off an alarm. He loses his concentration and the words stop for half a moment, but that's all I need.
I take my opportunity and flip myself over so that I'm on my belly. This takes him by surprise and for a split-second he is off balance. I flip back around and use my right arm to knock him in the throat as my body turns. He goes reeling off of me and I'm up and running down into the little creek.
A boot goes flying just past my head, but I don't stop and wonder at this weird turn of events. I run as hard as I can, over the opposite bank, out of the small grove of cottonwoods, and into the tall flowing prairie grass. I'm short, so the leftover husks slap me in the face as I run, blurring my vision.
The wings descend and he's swooping down upon me. I look up to see talons where his boots were just a few minutes ago and they latch onto my shoulders, puncturing my skin and making me scream. His grip tightens and I fall. I roll in practiced regulation fashion and pop back up, booking it again without missing a beat.
One second I'm hauling ass towards the open prairie, the next he's on the ground in front of me and we're on a collision path. I plan my move and let him get to within a few strides of me and then I flip into the air and land on the other side of him. He misses a step and I take advantage of it, turn and deliver a hook kick to his jaw. His head snaps to the side and he stumbles over sideways a little.
I run hard for a few seconds and don't look back. Off in the distance I hear the roar of a hovercopter and a few seconds later I feel the effects of the prairie grass wind tunnel it creates from the blades, but still I push my way through the now wildly swaying grass until I come upon the alien again.
His lip is bleeding and his jaw is slightly red from my kick. I stop in my tracks, bent over and panting hard.
He's not even out of breath.
"I'm not the enemy, Junco," he screams above the roar, "and if you know what's good for ya, you'll run like hell because if those guys from the Mountain Republic get you, you'll end up in the same messed-up place as your father."
He flies off, disappearing in the tallgrass before I can even string together a sentence.
But his words stay with me. Dead like my father is not something I want to be so I follow his advice. I run until the MR soldiers blast me with a plasma bolt and I fall to the ground unconscious.
Picture yourself standing on the edge of a dock. In front of you is a mountain lake and behind you is a small cabin, pristine white curtains flowing in the breeze passing through the windows. Down below the water you can see the scales of brightly colored fish reflecting the sunlight and up above in the sky you see the eagles as they soar, free from terrestrial boundaries. The planks on the deck are warm under your feet and you're wearing a long thin white shirt, open in the front, that barely covers your body. The waves lap against the dock and you reach over and drag your fingers through the water. It folds against your wrist and smells like blood...
The blood on my bound wrists has hardened, making them itchy and painful at the same time. I take a deep breath in, wince, then cough as my lungs protest in earnest at the expansion.
"Plasma blast will do that to you." The voice originates a few paces off to my left and I open my eyes to take in the interior of a military plane. I manage to move my head just enough to log a look of concern on Aren's face.
... up above in the sky you see the eagles as they soar, free from terrestrial boundaries...
I mentally shake the image out of my mind and cough before I answer him. "I know" – the cough comes back up as I try to croak out some words, so I start again – "I know that. Asshole."
Aren lets out a prolonged sigh. "What do you want from me, Junco? I had my team set their rifles to stun. They wanted to fucking kill you – and even after I told them how small you were, they still had their rifles dialed up for fully armored tactical. I saved your ass."
I spit out some blood and take a moment to wonder what might be bleeding inside me to cause it, but my mind is blank. I drop it and turn in his general direction, wincing at the throb this simple change in perspective creates in my head. "What are you doing here? You cut and run from the Mountain Republic too? Or is treason something you reserve only for the Rural folks?"
He's bending down a few paces off, to stay eye level with me I guess, but my comment makes him stand. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that?"
I nod and my coughing takes on a whole new level.
"Will you be rational? Or do I have to keep you bound?"
I don't answer, I just continue to cough, my chest searing in pain with every desperate inhalation of air.
He comes over, slits the bindings with a knife, and pulls me to my feet, then bends me over and whacks me on the back good and hard. Harder then he should, actually.
I take a large gasp of air, wince, and then spit more blood out towards his boots. "Fuck, Aren – mind the damn plasma burn, will ya?"
He stops and leaves me to it, then turns away as I straighten up. "We were sent to get you."
"Bullshit," I say, wiping the spit off my lips, "since when do we let MR soldiers in the Stag?"
"Since you went AWOL yesterday and were tracked to a certain alien who killed more than two dozen scientists out at the Camp. Not to mention a whole shitload of corporate executives from all over the United Republics for the past two years."
I don't react, except for a little cough that I can't tuck down, but internally I'm privately stunned. My dream comes back to me and I roll this new fact over in my mind. "So what's he got to do with me?" I look up at him now. He looks like shit. But I suppose he's thinking the same thing about me.
"You tell me and then we'll all know."
I shake my head, then take another second to catch my breath. "I wrecked my Goat, Aren. Hit a fucking tree and went unconscious. He was there and helped me out. That's it."
He walks away to the far end of the mini-drop plane so that he can stand on the edge of the ramp and look out across the tallgrass. I follow him over there, still trying to remember what it's like to breathe without the sting of residual plasma burns. When I get to the edge he grabs me by my arm and holds me so I can't go down the ramp.
"Try again, Junco," he says, exhaling a deep sigh. I look at him and see my best friend for just a moment. His face is one I know so well I could recognize it in the dark with just my fingertips. His blue eyes are still the same – deep and soulful. But they harden as I study him and then the old face is gone and it's just the asshole who left us to join the other team.
"They want to string you up for that last stunt you pulled."
I shake my head, not understanding, but he squeezes my arm a little tighter and I look back up in his eyes. "I gotta restrain you, Junco. We're still searching for him, so it'll be a while before I can take you home." He pulls me by the arm and we stomp down the ramp together, our boots clanking on the steel until we hit the grass.
"This is your guardhouse?" I let out a little laugh, then regret it when the coughing comes back. If he thinks being tethered to a prairie buggy is an inappropriate substitute for a regulation holding cell, he doesn't show it. Instead, he just points to the passenger seat again and scowls.
I get in and he attaches my new piece of jewelry to a matching tether connected to the roll bar above my head. "You're kidding me, right?"
He walks off and leaves me there.
The garage fab is not quite soundproof, but almost, and the outside world is reduced to muffled tones that are not even close to intelligible once the door slams behind him.
The bucket seats in the buggy are quite comfortable for military grade and I spend the next several minutes looking over what they have in here. Much of it is the same as what we have in our prairie buggies, but they have different aftermarket equipment.
I'm busy sifting through the contents of a case wedged between the driver and passenger seats when a blast of sound from outside disrupts my quiet world, making me turn.
"Find anything useful?"
I shrug. "I'm just passing time, Aren."
"You ready to tell me something?"
"Do I look like I'm fucking interested in chatting you up? Am I a prisoner of the MR, or what's going on here?"
He smiles. "I told you, we were sent to get you. You're being held under the direct orders of RR Command."
"Which is who exactly?"
His face turns away and I regret my outburst. It took me a little longer than usual, but I've finally crossed a line.
"Who are you these days?" He turns back towards me, his face a mixture of anger and disgust. "I heard you didn't even stay for his funeral. Just lit up in that deathtrap and left right in the middle of the ceremony."
"I stayed for most of the ceremony. Not that it has anything to do with this."
He laughs. "No? You tell me then, what the hell are you doing, Junco? What did you think you'd accomplish out there at Stag Camp?"
"I had a message to deliver."
"Yeah, like the bullshit you pulled last week?"
I shake my head. "What the hell–"
The garage doors roll up and soldiers file in, grabbing keys and jumping in the buggies. Aren walks over to CP and they whisper so I can't hear. Then CP comes over. "Gotta move now, Junco. They got a track on the alien's hiding place and they need all the buggies." I watch his thumb connect with the tether mechanism and it releases from the roll bar. "Jump out and come with me."
Aren barks orders at everyone as they fill the vehicles and he jumps into the buggy near me. "I'm gonna get your friend, Junco."
I shrug and answer back as I dutifully follow CP into another room. "Like I care."
Chapter Four
"You're chaining me to the head?"
"Sorry," CP says. "This is our most secure building. So. Nothing I can do." At least the tether is long. He spies me looking at it. "I gave you enough room to move around and–"
"And what?"
"Well, you know. You look like shit."
"Gee, thanks for the compliment." He shrugs and closes the door and I'm alone again.
I'm afraid to look in the mirror, so I use the facilities to prolong the agony, but that doesn't make the sight of my reflection any less shocking.
"Oh, my sweet Jeremiah!"
That face cannot belong to me. I have a giant gash that runs from my scalp and down to my right ear that has leaked blood all over one side of my hair, plastering it into a half helmet-like configuration.
Since I'm a prisoner locked in a bathroom I take advantage of what I have and fill the entire reserve water tank with the hand pump and gulp down long drinks of water. Then I stick my head into the basin and rinse as much of the blood out as I can.
When I'm done I look around and soak it all up, one square inch at a time.
And I smile.
The handle of the latrine isn't locked and opens when I push it down. I expect CP, but I get another guy. Bigger. Meaner. He's looking out a small window in the door and speaks before turning around. "Who's sweet Jeremiah?" he asks.
"What?"
"You called his name, in there. A while back." He turns, waiting for my answer.
"It's no one. It's how RR people who prefer not to swear say holy shit or something to that effect. Hey, uh," I begin, trying out a smile on him, "I'd like to change into one of these clean jumpsuits hanging in here. Will you please remove the tether so I can slip my arm through the sleeve?" He shrugs and walks over towards me.
I ease back into the bathroom and grab the jumpsuit as he follows me in.
"Just so you know, I can't leave you in here untethered. So you're gonna have to change in front of me."
"Whatever." I slip out of my thermals then step into the jumpsuit and pull it up to my waist. "I'm pretty sure you've seen everything I've got. If you want to gape at me, go right ahead."
To my surprise he turns his head away.
"Honey, I'm damn sure I've never seen a naked avian before."
He says it like it's nothing. I stare at him hard, then shake my head. "You care to elaborate on that statement?"
He stares back. "Which part? The part about what kind of girls I've seen naked? Or the part where I break the news that you're a freak?"
"Is that a joke?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
He doesn't.
He's a big guy, not just in height, but also in muscle and weight. Easily a hundred and thirty pounds heavier than me. I play my card and strip off my dress, letting it hang off the tether, and stand there naked in front of him.
"There you go, take a good look." I even lift my hands up in the air and twirl around so he can see my back. "Not a wing in sight. Satisfied?"
He looks, long and hard even, but I can tell his only interest is in my nonexistent wings. "Put your damn clothes on, Junco."
"Oh, have we met before–?"
He grunts. "Cole."
"Cole. I don't recall your face. Are you an RR deserter as well?"
"You gonna change or what?"
"I'm ready to go. Just waiting on you." I shake the dress that's hanging off my tethered arm and smile. I'm not really the seductive type, so whether or not this even interests him is over my head. But I only need him to underestimate me, not be interested. This would never work on RR soldiers. They all know me and an RR guard would never even get this close to me, let alone fall for this bullshit I'm trying to pull right now.
But this guy? He looks a little dumb and if there's one thing I've learned about being small, it's that big guys like this don't even want to think about the possibility that I might kick their ass.
I watch as he bends down and my world slows down. In between these fractions my eyes dart around looking–
His thumb moves closer and closer to the release pad.
– for the long plumber's wrench propped up against water reservoir. I track his thumb and the second he releases the tether I grab the wrench and swing.
I laugh a little as he goes down, then reach over and use his thumb to release the other bracelet, slip my clothes back on, and slide the jumpsuit over them. I roll up the pants and poke my head through the bathroom door to see if anyone is outside.
Clear.
I twirl my hair up on top of my head and grab his cap,
then rush over to the motor pool door. The window he was looking through wasn't built for short girls so I just open the door and walk through.
Into utter chaos.
I slide into the fray and walk like I've got somewhere to go as people rush around shouting orders, receiving orders, and generally doing everything soldiers do when something's up. I pick up a stray gas can as I walk and weigh my possibilities. I'm typically a quick decision maker but my pant legs are coming uncuffed, fucking up my concentration.
A thick bank of shrubs provides cover as I slip out my knife and begin hacking away at the length of extra fabric draping down my leg. I'm just about done when I spy CP walking with an RR officer.
That little traitor. Aren wasn't lying. They are here under RR orders. I briefly consider how uncomfortable I'd be if I had a joint mission with the army I walked out on and shiver a little.
CP turns to respond to something and I see that the RR officer has a gun to his head. He pushes CP forward and yells so loud I can pick out the words. "You tell your boss that he doesn't get the prize, and there better not be a damn thing wrong with her, soldier, or I'll have your brains splashed across this whole goddamn hillside."
Huh.
Nice to know at least someone cares.
I wait until they enter the motor pool and walk back out in the activity. I've got about ten seconds before they find Cole and sound an alarm so I dash into the trees and book it towards the river.
My ten seconds are absolutely up when it hits me. There is no ravine, no small trickle of a stream, and no Goat. I am on the wrong side of the road.
Shit.
There are only two choices, keep going out in the Stag alone with just my boot knife, or go back for the gun and make a run for it from there.
Off in the distance I hear the howling and make up my mind. I'd rather be caught and crucified than running in the tallgrass at night with no gun.
I walk down the hill until the activity breaks off, then make my way across the road, over to the stream, and begin the walk back up.