When They Came

by Kody Boye

  It wasn’t long before I began to see Them—appearing on the horizon like fireflies. Winking into existence from seemingly nowhere, Their countenances were almost hidden but for Their silhouettes made visible by the moon. They walked limp-wristed, Their sickly claws poised like knives and Their gazes set on the people They couldn’t see.

  They knew we were there. That much I was sure of. But what They were waiting for I couldn’t be sure.

  I wanted desperately to ask Xio if she knew—for a moment of clarity to be shone upon an utmost spell of darkness—but knew I couldn’t.

  Instead, I watched.

  And stared.

  And waited.

  Minutes passed by slowly, the first hour like a ticking bomb waiting to go off at any moment. I heard an owl cry out in the distance and watched as the Coyotes tilted Their heads simultaneously to acknowledge the sound, then did the same to return Their focus to the walled apartment complex.

  I didn’t know much about Them, why They did what They did or what Their true purpose was beyond scouting the world for potential Harvests. Rarely had They engaged with humanity, and so far as I knew, They’d never hurt anyone. But just because They hadn’t didn’t mean They couldn’t. And judging by the size of Their claws, They could do much more than just hurt.

  I reached forward and pressed a hand to Xio’s shoulder as I caught sight of one of the creatures making its way toward the walls, unsure what to do or how to respond beyond warning her with a simple touch. She nodded and lifted a finger to her lips, raising a hand to sign toward one of our companions down the line.

  A gun was raised.

  A bullet was fired.

  The creature fell a moment later.

  The others—standing sentinel in the darkness—careened Their heads to face the source of the gunshot, but did not move. Rather, They stared with unwavering eyes, as if daring the rest of the Guard to open fire.

  Slowly, a pair of the creatures came forward, Their movements distinguishable only by Their shifting, glowing eyes. When They drew close to the corpse, They reached down, took hold of its limbs, then dragged it away. The guttural sounds between Them resembled something like a hyena laughing on the plains of Africa.

  The noise made my skin crawl.

  Xio set a hand on my shoulder and gestured me back. Sit, her lips said, though I could barely see them in the moonlight streaming through the mesh.

  I did as she asked and waited for further instruction.

  When none came, I exhaled a pent-up breath.

  As one, the eyes turned to acknowledge me.

  I froze, convinced something would happen.

  When nothing did, I continued to gaze into the darkness.

  Their eyes were haunting—like lighthouses piercing through the fog of a lonely sea.

  In staring at Them, and in knowing Their purpose, I knew there was no denying it.

  The Harvesters knew we were here.

  It was only a matter of time until They came to get what They wanted.

  The rest of the night was a blur. Fighting the urge to flee from the nightmarish creatures beyond the walls but knowing I was as safe as I could be amongst my sister and other Guards, I waited for the night to pass—breathing, softly, the cool country air that surrounded me. The Coyotes’ movements halted sometime after dusk and only shifted when the sound of someone breathing too heavily entered the air. Once, I thought They would stray forward, as when someone sneezed it rent the air like a bomb detonating in the middle of a quiet street, but They never moved.

  No.

  The whole night They only watched—waiting, it seemed, for us to respond.

  By the time dawn began to crest the horizon, They started to retreat. Their lanky, emaciated forms shifted upon the horizon until They disappeared beyond the row of houses across from the apartment complex. It was only when the sun began to shine upon the world that I began to relax—and for the first time in hours, was allowed to speak freely.

  “You all right?” Xio asked, pressing a hand against my shoulder as the last of the Coyotes faded from view.

  “I’m fine,” I replied, yawning. “Just… tired, is all.”

  “You ready to head home?”

  “Can we?”

  Xio nodded. She gestured down the ramp that led onto the wall, shrugged the strap of her rifle over her shoulder, then sighed—a long, drawn-out sound that resembled steam escaping from an insulated canister. Her eyes were lined with red, her mouth pulled into a tight frown. It was no wonder she could sleep so easily during the day. After a night on the wall, I wanted nothing more than to lie down, curl up in my blankets, and fall asleep.

  We made our way first to the armory to deposit the weaponry and armor that adorned our bodies, then to the efficiency apartment we shared with our mother. Xio withdrew the key, then slid it into the knob without so much as a sound. When we entered, we did so quietly—taking off our shoes, removing our long-sleeved shirts. Our mother was already awake, and, dressed in her long coat and apron, was ready to depart to the kitchens.

  “Mama,” I said.

  “Dear child.” She took a step toward me. “How was the night?”

  “Terrifying,” I said. “But fine.”

  “I heard the shot and was so worried. I—”

  “It happens sometimes,” Xio said, matter-of-factly and with little emotion. “There’s no need to worry unless you hear more than one at once.”

  Our mother paused to consider her, then ran a hand through my hair. “Would you like me to cut it before you go out again tonight? That is… if you’re still going?”

  “I am,” I said, which instantly prompted a frown. “I mean, yes. I’m going. If I don’t have the night off. And yes, if you would be so kind.”

  She pulled first me, then Xio, into a hug before drawing away and making her way toward the door. “I’ll be back by this afternoon,” she said. “I’m glad to see you’re both safe.”

  “Bye Mom,” Xio said, only turning to face me once the two of us were alone.

  “Why did you have to talk to her like that?” I asked.

  “Like what?” She frowned.

  “You were just so… cold.”

  “She can’t worry like she did with me,” Xio said. “It’s just wall duty. It’s not like you’ve been called out on supply runs.”

  “That could always change.”

  “True, but just because it can doesn’t mean it will.”

  With a nod, I sunk my teeth into my lower lip and waited for her to say something further. When she didn’t, I turned and followed her into the bedroom. We collapsed upon our mattresses without so much as another word.

  As I lay there, contemplating the night and all that had transpired, I considered the reality that I could easily walk away from such a task. I could dedicate myself to an ignorant life—one where I didn’t have to fear what lay beyond the walls and how I would respond as I stood upon them.

  It took only a moment to realize I couldn’t do that.

  Only three of us had signed up for the Guard this year.

  If I left—and only Asha and Jason remained—how would that make me look?

  I sighed and closed my eyes.

  No.

  I wouldn’t leave the Guard.

  I would face it head-on and without fear… or as much courage as I could muster.

  With that in mind, I closed my eyes and allowed my body to relax for the first time in hours.

  It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

  I was woken by a knock at the door.

  Unsure if it was real or just my imagination, I ignored it at first, drawing my blankets over my head to block out what little light streamed through the curtained windows. I wanted nothing more than to continue to sleep—to fall into that endless abyss of darkness where no one and no thing could bother me. When the knock came again, and when Xiomara didn’t rouse from sleep, I rolled over, pushed myself out of bed, and made my way into the apartment.

  When I looked outsi
de, I saw a member of the Midnight Guard.

  What could he want? I wondered. Our duties were done. They should’ve left us alone—shouldn’t they?

  With a sigh, I unlocked and opened the door. “Hello?” I asked, my voice filled with sleeplessness.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Berrios, but you’ve been requested at the armory.”

  “Me?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  “Yes. You are Ana Mia Berrios, are you not?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “You’re to report to the armory within the next hour for weapons training. Can’t have our new recruits working the walls without their guns, can we?”

  “Guess not,” I replied, then gave him one final nod before closing the door.

  I turned, and nearly ran into Xiomara. “Sheesh!” I cried. “You could’ve warned me!”

  “That I was behind you? Or that they were likely going to haul you out of bed for weapons training?”

  “Both.”

  “You’ll be thankful for every hour of sleep you get from now until you die,” she replied, nodding as she leaned forward to lock the door. “I’m sorry to hear they’re hauling you out of bed. They’ll likely give you the night off, though.”

  “Is there any way I can postpone this?”

  “You mean by faking sick? No. Not unless you’re hurling your guts out or have vertigo so bad you can’t stand straight.”

  “I should’ve known this was a bad idea.” I sighed and made my way toward the bedroom.

  “It isn’t that bad,” Xiomara replied. “Besides, Sis—you’re gonna get to learn how to shoot a gun today. Isn’t that even a little bit exciting?”

  “I guess,” I mumbled as I stripped out of my nightclothes and redressed in my black ensemble.

  “One tip: always hold the gun properly. You don’t want it kicking back and hitting your pretty face. A broken nose doesn’t look good on anyone.”

  No, I thought bitterly. It didn’t.

  “Ana Mia Sofia Berrios?” Captain Henshaw asked as I walked into the armory.

  “Yes sir,” I replied. “Reporting for duty.”

  “Sorry to haul you out of bed, recruit, but we need to get you armed and prepared for the next watch. I can’t expect my men and women to be on the walls without weapons.”

  “No sir.” I took a few steps as he gestured me to approach. “What kind of weapon will I be using on the walls?”

  “Standard issue rifle,” the man said. “You ever shoot a gun, Berrios?”

  “No sir.”

  “It’s not hard. It’s learning how to shoot under pressure that’s the hardest.” He pulled what appeared to be a standard-issue rifle from the wall. As he drew closer, I saw it was made of plastic and nothing like the weapons the men and women on the walls carried.

  “Sir?” I asked, considering the weapon before me.

  “We don’t have much ammo, so I’m giving you a BB-gun to practice with.”

  “How am I supposed to learn to shoot with that?”

  “You need to learn the mechanics, Berrios. You’ll learn how to deal with the kick later.”

  “Yes sir,” I said. “Where do I—”

  Before I could finish my question, the door opened to reveal none other than Jason Parks—who, with his scarred face and tired eyes, looked exactly like how I felt. “Ana,” he said, nodding.

  “Jason,” I replied.

  “Ah. Jason,” Captain Henshaw said. “You’re just in time to show your fellow recruit to the training alley.”

  “You have your beebees?” Jason asked.

  “She does,” Henshaw said as he passed a cartridge filled with the little silver bullets over the kitchen island. “Glasses too.” He set two pairs of protective eyewear before us and nodded as I reached out to accept the items. “Return your weapon once you’re finished shooting. Take as much time as you like, and retrieve as many of the beebees as you are able. We train all the recruits with these.”

  “Yes sir,” I said, then turned and exited the armory with Jason.

  I followed in silence, unsure how to approach a young man who had lost both parents during the initial Harvests of 2024. I didn’t know much about him other than that. Rather than try to engage him, I kept my mouth shut and decided to wait for him to speak first.

  “Here we are,” he said as we rounded a building and came face-to-face with an alleyway. A series of straw-and-sand dummies stood at the end of it, shrouded by various degrees of debris. Jason gestured to a standing platform at the start of the alley, then to the dummies. “Basically,” he said, his deep voice pleasant and calming, “all Henshaw wants you to do is try and hit as many of the targets as you can, as many times as you can.”

  “Do you know how to shoot?” I waited for him to nod. “Will you help me?”

  He went through the motions of showing me how to use the beebee gun—teaching me how to load, unload, take the safety off, and properly align the butt of the rifle against my shoulder so that, in the future, the kick from the real gun wouldn’t cause me as much pain as it could. He gestured toward the sights at the end of the barrel. “It aims slightly above where the bullet goes, so make sure you take that into consideration.”

  “All right.” I loaded the beebees, donned my protective eyewear, and waited for Jason to do the same and step back before pressing the gun against my shoulder.

  The targets in the distance, though closer than they could’ve actually been, seemed so far away.

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them and took aim.

  I fired.

  The beebee struck the first dummy square in the chest.

  “Nice shot,” Jason said, setting a hand on my shoulder as I chambered another beebee. “Try again. Go for a headshot this time.”

  My second shot resulted in a miss. My third, however, struck the dummy in the chest near where the collarbone would have been had it been a person.

  “You’re a natural,” Jason said.

  “You think?”

  “I’d say so,” Frank Henshaw replied, startling me to the point where I nearly jumped with my finger on the trigger. He waited for me to lower the gun before taking a few steps forward. “Not very often you nail shots like that on your first few tries.”

  “But these are stationary targets,” I said. “This can’t possibly reflect my real ability.”

  “True,” he replied, “but knowing how to hit a standing target is the first part of learning how to shoot.” He cleared the distance between us in but a few brief strides, and looked down at me, his impressive black features handsome when revealed in the full light of day. “Keep practicing, Berrios, and moving targets will have no chance against you.”

  “Yes sir,” I said with a nod.

  “I want you to continue practicing for the rest of the afternoon. Familiarize yourself with shooting. Learn to be one with your weapon. Then, when it gets close to dark, I’d like you to return to your quarters and get some rest. There’s no need for my men and women to be tired when they’re on guard duty. Makes for a sloppy performance.”

  “Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.”

  “You too,” Henshaw said before disappearing down the road.

  I turned to look at Jason, and was surprised to see a frown had crossed his face.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “He’s a good man,” he replied, gesturing to the gun, then reaching forward to take it from my grasp. He slipped his own pair of eyeglasses over his face and lifted the gun to take aim. “He’s been like a second father to me ever since I arrived at Fort Hope.”

  “I’m sorry I never made more of an effort to talk to you.” I watched as he fired multiple shots in succession, all hitting their marks and several resulting in dead-on headshots. “I just… I was never really sure how to approach you.”

  “It’s understandable. I mean, it’s not like you can just come up to a guy like me and strike up a conversation.”

  So he was aware of his brooding
personality, of his shy disposition, and the way he tended to stray from larger groups of people. He fired a few more shots, as if to emphasize the words he’d said, then frowned as the gun expelled nothing but air.

  While he climbed over the simple barricade and into the alley to fetch the beebees, I couldn’t help but consider my role in his life. Though I’d gone to school and studied with him for the past six years, I’d never once made an effort to reach out to him.

  He’d been alone for the longest time, yet here I was—with my family—and doing nothing to help ease his pain or worries.

  “Jason?” I said as he began to make his way back down the alley.

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you… like to hang out sometime? Just the two of us? When you’re free, I mean.”

  “Sure.”

  I was surprised he’d responded so simply and easily.

  Smiling, I reached out to take the gun from him and began to load the beebees back into its cartridge.

  I’d walked out of my apartment thinking today would be dull and boring.

  Now I’d return having potentially made a new friend.

  Chapter 4

  After we rounded up the beebees and returned the equipment to the Armory, me and Jason went our separate ways. As I made my way home, cutting across the converted apartment complex through the humid Texas afternoon, I contemplated the time we had spent together and dwelled upon the blossoming friendship that seemed to be occurring before my eyes. Though I knew little about Jason—and even less about his situation—I knew all that would change within the coming days.

  By the time I arrived back at my apartment, Xiomara was just leaving for the walls.

  “Hey,” she said as she approached. “How’d it go?”

  “Fine,” I replied, sliding my hands into my pockets.

  “How was target practice?”

  “I’m a better shot than I thought I would be.”

  “I figured you’d pick it up quickly.” She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “Did you train alone, or…”