Xander
Zak, Shay, Xander and Pan had been driving around for hours and they still didn’t have a final destination in mind. Pan drifted in and out of sleep and during the times he was awake he was vague about directions and easily irritated. Xander watched him carefully. The guy was pale and sweaty and his eyes seemed to dilate randomly. All of this was in addition to the purple and yellow bruises that surrounded the gash from where Sydney had busted his head open in Las Vegas.
It was getting late and Zak had pulled over in a driveway leading to a barn to switch seats with Shay. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched his back outside the car. Xander was feeling cramped so he slipped outside as well. The three of them stood silently letting the damp, chilly air help wake them up and clear their heads.
“We can’t just keep driving without a destination,” Zak muttered.
“I don’t know what else to do…” Xander trailed off.
“What if we just get some rest here?” Shay volunteered.
Xander gave the idea some thought. “You mean just sleep in the car?”
“Yeah. We don’t know where we are going and we’re going to run out of gas soon if we just keep driving aimlessly. We’ve been over the same roads two and three times.”
“I’m with Shay,” Zak was twisting at the waist trying to loosen his back.
Xander sighed. They have a point, he thought. Finally, he nodded. “OK. Let’s sleep here.”
Shay took the back seat so that Xander and Zak, the tallest of the group, could stretch out more. Xander didn’t like Shay being so close to Pan, but, so far, Pan had not been aggressive since he found them. Though he still couldn’t forget Pan freaking out on him and Sydney. “Guys.”
“Yeah,” Shay muttered from the backseat, Zak just stared at him warily from the passenger seat.
“Let’s sleep in shifts,” he nodded towards the cargo area to convey his point.
“Good idea,” Zak agreed.
“I’ll take the first shift,” Xander volunteered.
“OK, I’ll take second,” Shay offered.
As Shay and Zak settled down, Xander tried to get more comfortable. Having the steering wheel in his lap made that hard to do though. He pulled out his sketch pad from the backpack he stowed behind his seat. Opening it to an empty page, he rested it on the center of the wheel and rolled a pencil back and forth between his fingers. He used the soft glow of a reading light to work. It always took him a few minutes to find the creative flow. He let out a deep breath and pushed all distractions out of his mind. A short time later his fingers dragged the charcoal point over the pristine, white paper. He had assumed he was going to draw Sydney, but as the picture started taking shape he was surprised to realize he was drawing himself as a child. The eyes of the little boy were large and frightened and the shaggy dark hair hung over his face. The portrait was mostly done when he shook himself and shut the sketch book. He didn’t feel like seeing his own haunted childhood staring back at him.
He glanced at the clock and saw it was time to wake Shay for her shift. He was glad to turn the watch over and give his brain a chance to shut down and stop worrying for a while. He leaned his seat back far enough to give his legs some room to stretch and rested his head. His eyes snapped open when a hand closed over his shoulder, but it was just Shay.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “We’ll find her.”
“I know.”
***
A muffled mewling sound made its way into Xander’s dream. Whoever he was talking to in the dream stopped speaking in words and their mouth just emitted the sickening sound. His heart pounded in alarm and the adrenaline caused him to jerk awake the same time Zak did. A thumping sound shook the truck and heavyweight hit the back of his seat. Xander instinctively jerked away from the movement and sounds and he ended up hitting the steering wheel hard enough to honk the horn. When he was able to piece together what was happening his heart raced but he grabbed Shay by the shoulders to pull her into the front.
It was Shay that had hit his seat and he couldn’t tell if she was hurt but she was trying her best to get away from Pan. The man in the cargo space was in full meltdown mode. He was the one making the mewling sounds all the while slamming himself into the walls of the SUV. His arms and legs were flailing like an overgrown child having a tantrum. Once Zak was awake enough to realize what was going on he joined in the effort to get Shay into the front. Xander had to avoid Shay’s feet, but eventually she righted herself until she was sitting in Zak’s lap with her feet on the console between him and Xander.
“What the fuck?” Xander gasped, watching Pan throw himself around.
“I don’t know,” Shay panted. “I woke up when he started moving and when I sat up I got caught by an elbow.”
It was then that Xander noticed the split in her lower lip. “Son of a bitch. Are you OK?”
“I’ll be fine. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
Xander wanted to drag Pan from the truck and beat the shit out of him. “What the hell is wrong with him?” he asked, not expecting an answer.
The three of them watched Pan as he slammed himself into the back window hard enough to bust his nose open. He wasn’t punching the walls anymore, instead he was holding onto the sides of his head and digging his fingers into his hair. The whole time he was making pained groans and grunts.
“What the hell should we do?” Zak asked.
No one had an answer, but when Pan heard Zak speak he swung towards them as if he had forgotten they were there. He screamed a loud enough to hurt Xander’s ears and it caused the hairs on his arms to stand on end. He imagined it was the same sound someone being eaten alive would make. It was guttural and long and only stopped when Pan ran out of breath. When Pan’s eyes focused on the three of them before narrowing and Xander knew what was coming.
“Get out,” he said softer than he intended. When Shay and Zak didn’t move he said it again, louder this time. “Get out!”
“What?” Shay stared at him stupidly.
“Get the fuck out!”
As the three of them finally reacted, Pan threw himself out of the cargo area, falling face first into the back seat. Shay exited on Zak’s side and they all made it out before Pan had a chance to recover. Xander watched as Pan pushed himself up and when their eyes met Xander knew what he had to do. Whatever pain Pan was suffering was vast. It twisted his face and clouded his eyes until he barely looked human. Pan wasn’t going to come back from this—that was clear. He didn’t start out as a bad person, from what Xander could tell. Whatever had happened to him was responsible for his pain and aggression. It wasn’t right, and Xander knew it would be wrong to continue to let him suffer. He wasn’t human anymore. He was something different. Like a rapid animal and Xander knew he would want to be put out of his misery if it had been him suffering this way.
Xander needed to get to his bag, which was in the floor of the backseat. “Whichever side he goes for keep the door shut. I need to get the gun out of my bag.” If Zak or Shay disagreed with what he was going to do, neither of them said it out loud. As if, on some level, Pan understood what Xander was saying he lunged at the driver’s side door. Xander didn’t know how long it would take for Pan to unlatch the door, but he leaned his weight against it in anticipation.
While Pan was distracted with Xander, Shay and Zak opened the back passenger door. By the time he realized what they were doing, they had already snatched the bag and were shutting the door when Pan scrambled toward them. He was snarling and throwing his weight against the door when Xander made it to the other side. It took both Shay and Zak to hold the door shut against Pan’s enraged attempts to get it open. He was a lion with a thorn in its paw—his pain had taken him beyond all reason.
It only took seconds for Xander to find the nine millimeter he had stashed in his bag. “Let him out,” he told them.
Zak stepped away immediately but Shay hesitated long enough to lose the battle with Pan. When the door flew open she was knocked ba
ckwards but Zak caught her and pulled her out of the way. Pan landed on the ground and Xander backed away to give himself room to aim. They were at the edge of a dense copse of trees and it was still early enough to be dark, but the gunshot would still be heard. They weren’t far enough away from houses to be able to hope it wouldn’t be noticed.
Pan lurched to his feet and Xander chambered a round. He had never shot anyone before but he was sure this was the best reason in the world to do so. As Pan lunged forward, Xander pulled the trigger and Pan was rocked back and spun in a half circle before crashing into the side of the truck. Dark red splatters encircled a hole in Pan’s shirt high on his chest. He bounced off the truck and came at Xander again. He fired a second time and managed to hit him in the face. Pan’s head snapped backwards and he slammed into the truck again before falling to the ground.
Xander lowered the gun slowly, not sure if Pan was going to supernaturally spring to his feet again. But when he stayed down, he turned to Shay and Zak. Shay’s hands covered her mouth and Zak was staring at the body in shock. “I had to do it,” Xander felt he needed to explain.
Eventually, Zak nodded. “I know,” he croaked. “I’ve just never seen anyone die before.”
Xander wished he could say the same. The silence that followed the attack and gun shot was profound. It felt like all the sound had been sucked out of the world. “Someone say something,” he finally spoke causing Shay to jump.
“You had to do it,” she said finally, tearing her eyes away from Pan.
Xander nodded. “We should get out of here. Someone probably heard that.”
“What the fuck is that?” Zak gasped.
With dread building, Xander followed Zak’s line of sight. His stomach dropped to his feet when he looked at Pan. At first he thought blood was shooting up and out of the hole in his face, but he blinked a couple of times and realized he was seeing something sticking out of the bullet hole. It was long, thin and dark in color.
“Ohmygod,” Shay breathed.
“What is it?” Zak asked, his voice higher pitched than normal.
The tentacle undulated in the air and lowered itself across Pan’s face and slid from one side to the other as if it was searching for something.
“Fucking kill it,” Shay commanded in a strangled voice.
Feeling as if he was falling down a deep, dark hole, Xander stepped forward even though everything in him was screaming for him to run. He leveled the gun at Pan’s head again, this time only inches away. He squeezed the trigger over and over again as fast as he could. After the fourth shot, Zak broke the spell by gripping his shoulder. Xander panted for breath and they all waited to see if the thing was going to move again. The tentacle lay limply across Pan’s face. Xander’s ears were ringing from the shots and his hand was trying to cramp from the effort of pulling the trigger so many times. Even though they were worried about someone calling the cops they dared to wait several minutes to make sure it was dead before scrambling back into the SUV and peeling out of the field they had parked in.
Chapter Forty-Nine
When Sydney woke up the next morning she felt uneasy and anxious before she even opened her eyes. Her whole body was tense with nervous energy and a need for action. She sat on the edge of the bed and stretched to relieve the ache in her limbs and the whole time her head throbbed dully. She knew that time was running out. Sooner, not later, Doc was going to decide it was time to cut her head open to see what happened to the Dyian. She felt like ants were crawling under her skin and it took a huge effort to not dissolve into a full blown panic attack. She needed action.
“Let’s do this,” she muttered to herself standing and shaking the remains of sleep out of her body.
She showered quickly and dressed in the cleanest clothes she had available. Tying her shoes, she wished she had a jacket. If she made it out today she had no idea how far she was going to have to hike in the early spring chill. She listened at the door for a few moments before trying the knob. It was locked, of course. She knocked and only moments later heard shuffling from the other room.
He opened her door slowly and stepped back. She glanced at the pocket of his khakis and knew he had the grenade there. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice her looking for it. “Are you ready for more tests?” he asked her.
“It depends on what they are,” she answered honestly.
He chuckled as if she was joking but it was a nervous and forced laugh. “I thought today we could give you an improvised physical. I’d like to see how your body handles exercise.”
“Sure,” she shrugged. It was hard pretending she wasn’t actively trying to figure out a way to kill him.
Doc motioned for her to come out of the room and she complied. He stayed back, out of her reach, and waved her towards the door to the basement.
“No coffee this morning?” she would love to have something to help her clear her head. Between the headache and the ever lingering exhaustion she had endured for days, she would be lucky to move fast enough to get near him...let alone overpower him somehow.
“I don’t want to risk influencing the tests. I’ll make us some after we are through.”
I guess that means he doesn’t plan on killing me today? “Fine,” was all she said as she made her way towards the basement. She hated the fact that Doc was always behind her. Not only did it make it harder to attack him, but it made her paranoid and uneasy. Her throat tightened with every step and she felt like she was on her way to an execution chamber.
In the basement, Doc directed her towards an empty corner of the room. While she waited he rolled a cart towards her that held the heart monitor she had been hooked to yesterday. “Stick the electrodes on your chest and ankles,” he directed her. He seemed determined to stay out of her reach today and she scowled. Just yesterday he seemed to be relaxing towards her—what had changed? He helped her attach the electrodes in the right spots with a laser pointer. When there was a loud bang from the closed off corner where the Dyian was held Sydney began to suspect the source of his nerves. Doc jumped like the sound had been a gunshot. She wondered if her anxiety and Doc’s paranoia were related. Is something up with the Dyian?
“Now, under ideal circumstances I would ask you to jog on a treadmill for thirty minutes but, as you can see, I don’t have a treadmill. So, instead, just jog in place for me.”
“How am I supposed to jog with these things on my ankles?”
“Carefully.”
Sydney’s head twitched as she tried not to react to his brusqueness. Doc was showing his agitation. Slowly, and carefully, she did what he asked.
“Thank you,” Doc said as he began making notes on his clipboard.
Sydney jogged for what felt like fifteen minutes before her lungs began burning and her heart pounded in her ears. It was hard for her to breathe and her head felt like it was going to explode. Sweat poured down her face and ran in rivulets down her back. “How much longer do I have?” she gasped.
Doc raised an eyebrow at her,” Twenty-five minutes.”
How is that possible? Sydney wondered. She wasn’t someone who spent hours in a gym, but she walked a lot and tried to watch what she ate. She shouldn’t be this out of shape. “I don’t think I can,” she panted. Running in place was awkward and she worried with every step she would get tangled in the wires attached to her ankles.
“Pick up your knees,” Doc told her.
“I’m trying,” she hated how whiny she sounded.
It finally happened. She took an awkward, half-step that caught the wire and sent her forward where she landed hard on her right knee. She let her momentum take her all the way to the floor and she lay there gasping for breath. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I think it is the stress of the Dyian on your body.”
“So it’s not dead?” she had no idea how she wanted him to answer that question.
“I am not sure. It could also be an infection that is building up in your system as the Dyian’s body decays.” Anothe
r thump from the corner caused Doc to jump again. “Get up.”
“I don’t think I can,” she groaned. “I hurt my knee.” She wished she was playing possum, but her knee was throbbing with a dull but excruciating pain.
“Well, you’ll have to figure it out,” he snapped, eyeing the corner.
Sydney pushed herself into a sitting position. “So, I guess having an alien in our heads doesn’t give us any superpowers.” She wasn’t actually looking for an answer but Doc responded anyway.
‘Were you expecting any?” he was genuinely curious.
“Not really,” she shrugged. “It would have been nice though.” It would have made escaping a lot easier, she thought bitterly. The idea of being a host to some kind of alien was so, terrifying on a primal level her body seemed to shut down and refuse to process it.
She pulled the electrodes off and tossed them to the side, not caring if they got more tangled. She put her weight on her good knee and pushed herself to one foot. She held the bad leg up and used her toes to help balance herself.
A loud shriek from the corner room caused her hair to stand on end and Doc to turn pale. Even muffled behind the walls it was still loud and scary. “What the hell?”
“Let’s go back upstairs,” Doc motioned towards the stairs even though he kept his eyes on the corner.
“What’s wrong with it?” Sydney asked.
Doc narrowed his eyes at her. “Nothing is wrong with it.”
“It sounds pissed.”
“Get upstairs,” he said again.
“How would you like me to do that? I can’t put any weight on my knee.” Sydney desperately wanted to hold onto her plan of escape-but she didn’t know how that was possible now. Unless she could get the key to the van she was screwed. Unless I’m lucky and someone hears the explosion…. But that was hope she couldn’t really afford. She didn’t know if she was one mile or one hundred miles from the nearest house.
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