“You passed out,” Doc answered, recovering from his surprise.
“Why?” she asked, looking around the basement.
“...I’m not sure.”
His hesitation in answering indicated he at least had a theory. There was another table next to the one she was laying on. It had straps that hung over the side that could be used to restrain whoever was being examined. Worse was the rolling tray next to the table. It was on the far side, but Sydney could still see used needles, a scalpel and wads of cotton and gauze that were stained a dark blue color. “How long was I out?”
“Less than an hour.” Doc stepped in front of her, intentionally blocking her view of the tray. “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts. I feel sick.”
“When did the pain and nausea start?”
She wasn’t sure how much she should tell him, but in the end she decided to be honest. “The headache started not long after I heard you moving around. The nausea right before I passed out.” She left out the part about the hallucination but wasn’t sure why other than she didn’t want to give him that knowledge out of spite.
“Fascinating…”
“Why?
“I was examining the Dyian. It was...angry. Then I heard you pounding on the floor. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, but I had to secure it.”
“Why?” Doc tilted his head at her in confusion. “Why did you have to ‘secure’ it? Is it dangerous?” It was both curious and a need to know question. If she was going to try to work with—or use—it to escape, she needed to know if it was going to try to eat her.
“It...isn’t happy being here.”
“Does it speak?”
“No. I don’t think it can.”
Or won’t, Sydney thought. “Why?”
“I don’t think it has the capability of speaking—at least not able to make human sounds. I mean, a dog can bark, but it can’t form human words even if it understands them. I think I’ve managed to teach the Dyian a few words—enough to communicate directions. But not much more.”
Syd had a feeling the Dyian could understand just fine. If the creature was trying to communicate with her, that could be the cause of the pain and hallucinations. Or, she could also be picking up on the Dyian’s stress. Given the state of the examination table and tools, the Dyian had just went through quite an ordeal.
Xander
“Do you know where Sydney woke up? What part of the Lake?” Zak asked.
“Not exactly. After she woke up she walked to a farm then hitched a ride to Millville. She couldn’t have been far from there.”
“OK. To Millville then.”
Millville was a small but clean and tidy town. Xander had no idea how Sydney had managed to hide out here for so long. In little towns like this everyone knew everyone else. It was hard to stay a stranger. But, as they drove past a farming supply store, he realized how it could have worked. A large group of men dressed to work on a farm were being dropped off. As a farming community these locals probably saw lots of people come and go. Even if Sydney didn’t look like the normal migrant worker, the townspeople had probably learned to ignore the unfamiliar and not ask too many questions. Their labor force depended on discretion—it benefitted everyone.
Xander wondered if one of the men was the one who had helped Sydney. He would like to meet that guy—shake his hand and thank him. As they passed a street sign he was jerked out of his thoughts. “Wait! Turn here!”
“Where?”
“On Sydney Lane.”
“Ooooh,” Shay breathed realizing the meaning of the sign. “That’s where she got her name?”
“Yeah.”
Shay was silent for a moment while she contemplated the fact that Sydney wasn’t Sydney’s real name. Like Xander, it had taken her a while to think about that. “Why did she pick this road?”
“She stayed here for a while. With an old guy who let her live in his shop.”
Zak raised an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. “No! Not like that,” Xander answered the unspoken question gruffly. He studied the store fronts but none of them seemed to be for a computer repair store.
“Which store did she stay at?” Shay asked.
“It was a computer store. I don’t think it is still here.”
“What happened?” Zak asked.
Xander sighed. He knew Sydney hated this part of her past. “The guy died. His store must have been bought out by someone else.”
“How did he die?” Shay asked.
“Someone cut off his head.”
Shay looked like she was going to cry but Zak just looked disgusted and angry. “Fuck,” he muttered.
They circled the lot and pulled back out onto the main road since there was nothing to be found in the shopping center. It was late afternoon and Xander was feeling frustrated. He glanced back at Pan who was snoozing fitfully in the cargo space. A truck with another group of workers huddled in the bed drove past them and turned into the parking lot of the same store they had passed earlier. “Turn into that parking lot,” Xander directed Zak, pointing to the lot across the street.
“Why?”
“After that truck drops off those workers, follow it.”
“Why?”
“Sydney got into town with a truck like that. We can follow it and hopefully find the area she came from.”
“It’s a long shot,” Zak shook his head but did as Xander asked.
The drop off was quick and Zak barely had time to turn around before he had to return to the road to follow the truck. The truck, luckily, didn’t make any more stops before leaving Millville. They hung back far enough to not be too noticeable but staying close enough to not lose sight of the now empty truck.
Buildings and businesses became fewer and far between as they gave way to farm land. Xander tried to imagine what it would have been like to wake up here cold, hurt and confused. Anger hardened his belly and he tightened his fist, wanting to punch the responsible person until their face was as unrecognizable as Pan’s girlfriend’s had been. He shuddered remembering the bloody and broken looking woman in the bathtub. Her face had been grotesquely dented and torn and that image would haunt Xander until he died. He looked back at Pan and shuddered.
They were at least a thirty minute drive from the lake and a forty minute trip from town when Pan sat up so fast Xander jumped in surprise. “She’s close,” he muttered as if he was half asleep.
“Where?” Xander could hear the hope and desperation in his voice.
“What?” Pan asked, shaking off his confusion.
“You said she was close,” he told Pan with an edge to his voice.
“I did?”
“Yes!” Xander reached out and yanked Pan closer by his shirt collar.
“Xander!” Shay cautioned him. “Give him a chance.”
“To what? I think this guy is just fucking with us now. He knows that we aren’t going to kill him if he says he can lead us to Syd.”
Pan looked like he was going to cry. “I need to find her.”
“Then find her,” Xander growled.
Zak had pulled the truck over when the commotion began. “Roll a window down,” he told them.
“What?” Shay asked.
“Roll a window down. If he is picking up on a scent it will make it easier.”
She tilted her head. “So, you think he smells her?”
“Who the hell knows?” Zak shrugged. “What can it hurt?”
Xander and Shay, along with Zak, rolled the windows of the SUV down. Xander watched Pan carefully. He had closed his eyes and was taking deep slow breaths. “Is he right? Do you smell her?”
“No. I just...I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”
“About?”
“She was here—recently.”
Xander hated putting all his hope in Pan but he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. “What do we do?” he asked him.
“Drive,” he whispered.
“Which way?”
“That way?”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Xander sighed and rubbed his forehead. “That direction?” he pointed straight ahead to clarify.
“Yeah.”
He shook his head in frustration. “Just drive, man,” he told Zak.
“Are you sure?”
“Fuck no.”
“Whatever,” Zak shrugged.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Doc made Sydney lay on the table for a while so that she could rest and he could record her vitals. Nothing he found as he gave her a brief examination seemed to alarm him. He made notes quietly with his brow creased in concentration.
“What do you see?” she asked him.
“Hmm?”
“What kind of medical stuff are you seeing with me? Can you tell anything about my condition?”
“Well, your heart rate is slightly higher than normal. That could be due to stress though…” he trailed off as if he was thinking out loud. “Your temperature is a little higher than normal. And your pupils respond differently to stimuli.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Well, the heart rate and temperature I think is a part of the incubation process. Pregnancy and nesting can require similar changes in body states.”
Syd tried not to shudder over the implication that she was pregnant with some kind of alien baby or parasite. “What about the pupil thing?”
“That? It seems that the Dyian has excellent night vision. It doesn’t tolerate light very well. I think your eyes are trying to accommodate the Dyian.”
“Why haven’t I lost it like Randall or Connor?”
Doc’s shoulders slumped and he looked troubled. “I am not sure. But, I wish I knew.” Sydney resented how disappointed he sounded. “If I had access to an MRI or even a CT scan I might be able to find out easier.”
“Easier than what?”
“Than just...speculation and guessing,” Doc tried to smile to ease her worries, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Sydney swallowed hard and glanced towards the room where she knew the Dyian was being held. Doc moved to a microscope and began to sort through the little glass slides. “Just lay back and rest a bit,” he told her, as if relaxing was possible.
“Why did Randall lose it so quickly?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You said he was the one who killed Don. And he’s been after me since even before the dream, right?”
Doc hesitated. “...I think so.”
“Why? Everyone else seems to have been fine at first. Then progressively worse. He must have started out in bad shape.”
Doc said nothing for a few beats, then cleared his throat. “Everyone reacts to the implantation differently.”
Sydney knew he was lying. Or at least withholding something. She gritted her teeth and tried to appear pacified. She had no idea if any of her theories were true. Randall and her both being different could be just a coincidence. The Dyian might not be able to sense her at all. She might not be picking up on it either, she could actually be going crazy. Glancing at the messy exam tray caused her stomach to turn. Not just because she empathized with another creature being held prisoner here. But because she couldn’t help but imagine what her own exam table would look like when Doc was done.
“If I’d had the chance to perform an autopsy on Randall I might have learned more about his condition,” his voice was edged with bitterness and he wouldn’t look at her.
“Why didn’t you get a chance to examine it?”
Doc started at her in confusion for a moment. “I couldn’t get it before you destroyed it.”
“But you took it.”
“I didn’t take the body. I had to choose between taking the body and following you. I, erroneously, hoped I would be able to get it later.”
Sydney stared at him, speechless and he still wouldn’t meet her eyes. She had a feeling they both believed the other was lying. Finally, Doc made a show of shrugging. “Well, no since getting upset over something I can’t change.”
If Doc is telling the truth, who took the damn body? And if he’s not telling the truth, why would he lie about it? Syd’s head was beginning to hurt and frustration was causing her to feel agitated. Finally, she decided to let it go for the time being. One problem at a time, she decided. “Where do you think the Dyian comes from?” she asked.
“We have no idea what planet it could be from, but I’m certain it’s not Earth.”
Sydney shut her eyes barely able to comprehend what she was hearing. “What is going to happen when the Dyians bust out of the heads of everyone?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the public is going to freak out. They’ll kill them. Or at least capture them and study them in a lab.”
“No, no. The Dyians will not just hatch on the street.”
“They won’t?”
“No. They’ll come home first.”
“Home?”
“Yes.”
“Where is home?”
“Where it’s—for lack of a better word—parent is.”
“The Dyian here,” Syd nodded towards the improvised room, “is the parent of the spore you implanted in us.”
“Yes.”
“How is that possible?”
“The Dyian are asexual and reproduce without a second organism.”
If all Dyians were compelled to return to the “parent” creature that explained the connection she suspected she had with the creature. “How will they find their way here? We were infected in Chicago, right?”
“Infected is such a nasty word,” Doc wrinkled his nose.
“Well, whatever you want to call it. It happened at the convention, right?” If he wondered how she knew so much, he didn’t ask. “How will they know to come here?”
“I didn’t implant everyone at the convention.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. There wasn’t time. I brought several of you back here.”
Sydney realized that made sense. It explained how she ended up on the shore in Michigan. “How did you get me here? Any of us.”
Doc smiled. “A little GHB and a clever story.”
So, he drugged me? That eased some of Sydney’s guilt and shame. Just a little bit. Being drugged was better than being stupid. But, still, how was I dumb enough to get drugged by a stranger? Isn’t that like, Girl Survival Instinct 101? “So, at some point, an alien is going to break out of my skull and kill me?”
“I just, honestly, don’t know. I’m not sure if the spore implanted properly. Maybe it is slow to develop. Maybe it died.”
Sydney scowled at how sad he sounded at that possibility. “Your previous subjects that had a dead one in them got sick, right?”
“Yes.”
“Sick like me?”
Doc was silent for a moment. “No. It was more acute. They suffered the effects of an infection.”
“And I’m not?”
“No. I wouldn’t call your symptoms the results of an infection. It’s more like...a mild case of being a host.”
He didn’t look as if that made any more sense to him than it did Sydney. She wanted to convince herself differently, but at that moment her belief she was going to die was reaffirmed. The only way for Doc to definitively determine what was wrong with the Dyian in her brain was to cut her open and find out. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath trying to fight the panic that was taking over the hope she had left. Luckily, Doc had removed the heart monitor sensors or it would be beeping alarmingly loud and fast. A loud thump from the walled-in corner distracted her from her despair and she jerked at the sound. Doc glanced worriedly at the room but when there was no other sound he went back to his work.
“So, how will everyone find their way back here?”
“It’s a pheromone. I don’t have the equipment to isolate it enough to study it, but like bees or ants, they can find each other over long distances. The Dyian inside them will drive
them to come here, the closer it comes to birth, the stronger the urge for it to find its way home.
“Why?”
“I think of it as a reverse nesting of sorts. The parents don’t find their way home like salmon to spawn. The spawn find their way home to hatch.”
Even though she no longer felt nauseous, Sydney’s stomach was hurting. The tension that had built up in her limbs for days caused her muscles to ache and her head was still throbbing. If you can hear me, make a noise. She directed her thoughts toward the corner room. She waited for several minutes but the Dyian didn’t make any more sounds. Thinking she might not be doing it right she continued to direct silent messages towards the Dyian while Doc worked at his tests and notes.
After a while Sydney gave up and realized she needed a plan B. If she couldn’t communicate with the Dyian, and couldn’t work with the creature to escape she needed a plan to fall back on. The doors were locked from inside with a key and all the windows had bars on them. Doc said the keys were locked in a safe. She figured the chances of threatening him into giving her the keys wasn’t likely to work. But, maybe she could threaten his work? If she could get her hands on the grenade, maybe she could force him to give her the keys or else she would blow the Dyian or him, or herself, or all three of them up.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that was the best option. She couldn’t trust the Dyian. It was an alien creature that had been tortured and used by a human. It was as likely to kill her as it was to help her. Unless it felt some connection with her due to the fact that she had one of its babies in her brain. But, didn’t Doc say the infected attacked those that were different? Why wouldn’t the parent?
Sydney sat up on the table and assessed her condition. She was dizzy and tired. Her stomach was cramping and her head hurt. Doc turned to her as soon as she made a move but he wasn’t as wary of her as he was when he first took her—she had done well getting him to let his guard down.
But, Sydney doubted she would be able to get close enough to him to grab the grenade from him. And she knew he had it on him. She could see the bulge in the pocket of his lab coat. At the very least, she thought, if I can get the grenade I can blow a hole in the cabin wall. And if I’m lucky it won’t collapse on me before I can get out. The only question is, what’s going to come first? My chance to get the drop on Doc? Or his deciding it’s time to cut into my brain?
Don't Let Them Find You Page 32