“There’s gotta be some kind of landing strip or runway around here,” I yell into Liam’s ear as we climb into the pod, curling up again and closing the pod door as best we can. “We’re their specimens! It doesn’t make sense for them to let us crash and die in a desert.”
The aircraft slows even more, like it’s coming in low. I clutch at Liam.
The roar of the engines becomes deafening again. The plane is going to touch down soon, whether there’s a runway around here or not.
“What happens when we land?” I ask Liam, refusing to acknowledge the fact that crashing seems far more likely. “Do we fight?”
“If we have to.”
I can barely hear him because of the noise. I curl up against him tighter. I try to get some air from the oxygen mask, but it doesn’t seem to be working anymore.
Then I hear a noise halfway between a thud and a pop, and we start to slow even more. “What was that?” I ask, panicked.
“Wing flaps, maybe?” Liam’s body tenses, preparing for whatever lies ahead. “Grab on to me hard.”
“I already am.”
“Harder. Keep your head down.”
I do as he says. He moves his arm around me, trying to protect me better.
“Alenna?”
“Yeah?”
“I think we’re going to crash.”
I nod and whisper, “I already know that.”
Maybe Clara is responsible, or maybe the pod finally sensed we weren’t frozen and the entire aircraft is doing some weird self-destruct thing.
I feel our altitude and speed decreasing. We can’t be far from the ground now. I wish I could see what was happening. We’re probably going to hit one of those sand dunes soon. I brace for the impact.
“Liam,” I say.
And then we hit.
The airplane smashes down against the sand with such force that I black out for a second, cracking my head against the plastic hull of the pod as my teeth snap together.
Then I’m conscious again, and the plane is sliding over the sand, out of control. Sparks shower onto us as hidden wires short out inside the pod’s shell. Liam is calling my name.
We hit the ground again and bounce hard. My head whips back and then forward. The plane is spinning and sliding as the engines scream. I smell acrid smoke as more sparks shower down on us. I can’t tell if we’re airborne again or still on the ground.
There’s a jolting thump as we hit something. Then another. Must be a ridge of dunes.
I know we can’t withstand much more of this. The aircraft is going to tear itself to pieces and fling our pod out of it. We’re going to die!
But we don’t die. That would be too easy.
We just keep bouncing and getting pounded. The padding on the interior of the pod is all that keeps me from hitting the hard siding. That and Liam’s protective body wrapped around mine.
The crash landing seems to go on forever, every second elongated into an hour. But it probably hasn’t been even a minute since we clipped the top of the first dune. Time slows down and everything moves at a crawl, like it did in the awful, unearthly barrier around the gray zone.
But eventually our journey comes to an abrupt end.
The plane careens sideways, losing power, like it’s slipping down one side of a dune. We just keep holding each other.
Bruised and battered, we finally come to a dead stop. I’ve lost all sense of direction inside the pod. I can’t tell what’s up or down. My whole body hurts. Even though I know we’re stationary, my balance is screwed up, and it feels like I’m still moving.
“We’re alive,” Liam says faintly. Then louder, as if to reassure both of us: “We’re still alive!”
We lie there for a moment, gasping. I still smell something burning. It could be fuel. I realize we need to get out of the pod and off this aircraft. Liam does too. He starts grappling with the door of the pod, but it’s broken now and doesn’t budge.
He starts kicking at it again, but there’s no room for him to get enough leverage. The frame doesn’t give way.
“We’re stuck,” I say. In a pod, inside a crashed airplane that’s probably leaking fuel, in the middle of a desert.
Liam suddenly stops moving and grabs my hands. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“Voices.”
I don’t hear anything other than the crackling of the cooling engines and the settling of the aircraft into sand.
I dare to whisper, “Should we—?”
But then I hear something else too. A faint swooshing sound, right outside. I hold my breath. The noises increase, sounding like rapid footsteps, as though people are already boarding the wrecked plane. Can that be possible? I put my lips against Liam’s ear. “I’m scared,” I whisper.
“Be strong,” he mouths back.
Then we hear a clank, and I flinch. It’s the sound of something metal hitting the base of our pod. Like someone’s trying to free our pod from the plane.
“What’s the plan?” I breathe into Liam’s ear.
“We’ve got the element of surprise,” he whispers back. “Whoever they are, they’ll think we’re frozen.” Both of us are as still as corpses. “Just stay behind me if the pod gets opened.”
“I’ll fight too,” I whisper.
“I know. I’m counting on it.”
The noises outside grow louder, but I still can’t make out any words. Another clank comes. Then another. I feel our pod start to move, like it’s being dragged out of the plane with us inside.
I grip Liam tighter.
I know that these people will probably open our pod soon. I can feel Liam flex his muscles. His body has become hard and taut, like the string of a bow. He is a warrior preparing for battle. I feel at one with him.
Our pod starts moving faster. We get slammed against the hull of the plane. I hear a clatter, and the world starts spinning as our pod begins to rotate. I realize we’re probably being rolled down a ramp, out of the aircraft and onto the sand.
The pod keeps moving. The motion goes on for several minutes, until we finally come to a sudden, brutal stop, as though we’ve hit a wall.
The jarring impact makes me cry out loudly.
I bite my lip.
But it’s too late.
I hear startled voices yelling. Footsteps running toward us.
Oh no—they heard me!
“It’s okay,” Liam whispers into my ear.
And then comes an awful wrenching sound, as the roof of our pod is torn back in one piece by a gigantic pair of metal shears.
The sun hits my eyes, blotting everything out in a blaze of white light. Except for the shadowy figures that loom over us with guns, screaming wildly.
DESTINY STATION
LIAM EXPLODES UPWARD WITH surprising energy, clawing his way right out of our pod. He’s yelling, trying to scare these people.
But as my eyes adjust to the light, I see that they already look scared enough. “These kids are awake!” one of them yells, stumbling back from the opening.
I’m right behind Liam, staggering up and out. Our silver zone suits sparkle under the harsh glare of the desert sun. I flail, trying to clear my vision.
I realize that at least thirty adults are now amassing around our pod. We’re pressed right up against the edge of a dune. To our right, I see a mountainous, red-colored sandstone rock formation, the size of several city blocks, towering two hundred feet above the dunes. It has a flattened top, like a mesa, and it’s the only visible landmark, other than sand.
“Oh my God!” another voice yells. I turn in her direction. It’s a middle-aged woman with dark curly hair.
She’s not particularly threatening-looking, but I still scream at her: “Get the hell away from us!”
She backs off rapidly, as do the others.
Liam crouches on the sand in his warrior stance. We’re both trying to make sense of where we’ve landed and who these people are. They don’t look like UNA scientists or soldiers, that’s for sure.
They’re just a mix of regular men and women, all dressed in loose white desert tunics. On their faces, I see looks ranging from surprise to catatonic shock.
I move over to Liam and stand back-to-back with him. The group has formed a wide circle around us. Behind them I see the aircraft that brought us here. It looks like an old slate-gray UNA bomber, large and cumbersome. It’s missing part of a wing from our landing.
“Who are you?” Liam yells. “What is this place?”
A tall, lanky man with thinning gray hair and glasses takes a step forward.
“Keep your distance!” Liam barks. “Don’t come near us, or I’ll kill you.”
Liam sounds both ferocious and believable. The man stops moving and stretches out his empty hands, presumably to show that he’s unarmed and means no harm.
“What’s your name, son?” he asks. He has a strange accent. Maybe British or Australian.
“Don’t call me ‘son’!” Liam snaps. “I said stay back!”
I glance around at the group of adults. If these really are the technicians who intended to dissect us, then I hate them with a passion that I’ve never felt before.
Yet I see looks of compassion and pity on some of their faces, now that their shock is wearing off. It’s hard to imagine that these rumpled desert dwellers are murderous UNA scientists. I don’t even think we’re in the UNA anymore.
I hear one woman murmur to another, “The first ones who are awake! And there’s more than one of them.” When she sees me glaring at her, she stops talking pretty fast.
“I’m Dr. Terry Elliott,” the tall man says to us.
“Doctor?” Liam asks, his face darkening. “So you want to cut us up and study our corpses? Sorry we aren’t frozen enough for you.”
“No, no.” The man shakes his head. “Not that kind of doctor. I’m an anthropologist, originally from Old Melbourne, Victoria. Do you even know where you are?”
I don’t reply.
“What’s your name, hon?” the middle-aged woman calls out in my direction. I don’t respond. These strangers will have to earn our trust.
“You’re safe now,” Dr. Elliott continues, running a hand through what’s left of his hair. “Look, I know you might not believe it, but you’ve been rescued.” He takes a hesitant half step forward. “I understand why you’re so angry. You’ve been on that bloody island too long and—”
“You don’t know anything about us!” Liam snarls.
The man nods slowly. “True. But we want to learn. That’s why we brought you here.”
“You brought us here?” I ask.
“Yes. Me and the other rebel scientists at Destiny Station.”
“What are you talking about?” Liam asks the man. “Alenna rescued me, then we hijacked a pod, and after that, the transport plane crashed here. You didn’t do crap.” Liam looks like he’s ready to lunge forward and attack.
“Let me explain.” Dr. Elliott wipes sweat from his eyes. “We’ve been tracking radio signals emitted by the Island Alpha airplanes. I guess you could say we’ve been doing some hijacking of our own.” He glances at his silent companions, and then back at us. “For the past month, we’ve been intercepting guidance signals for each plane that leaves the island. The planes are remotely operated by computers, all automated, so we’ve been able to take over the controls and guide the planes here, and land them in this desert. The landings are rough, but if the occupants of the pods are frozen and preserved in fluid, they’re generally well protected. You two are complete anomalies.” He pauses. “Right now, the UNA just thinks there’s a temporary glitch in their system. They can afford the steep losses because they have plenty of planes from their wars, and a current backlog of thousands of bodies. They can’t even keep up with their own research.”
“Keep talking,” Liam prompts the doctor warily.
“We’ve managed to rescue more than three hundred of you inmates, and bring you all here to our settlement.”
I fold my arms. “Settlement?”
“Yes, on the northern ridge of Australia. Thousands of miles from where you should be right now.” He pushes down his glasses and scratches the bridge of his nose. “If it weren’t for us, you’d be in the processing center on a UNA naval base. From there, you’d be shipped to a medical facility, where—as you seem to already know—you’d eventually be dissected.”
“Why?” I ask. “Why are we worth dissecting?”
“Because the UNA wants to analyze your brains and your DNA. To determine why you’re immune to the sedating chemicals that your government puts in your thought-pills and pumps through the veins of its entire populace.”
I digest this information slowly. Liam and I look at each other. Things are beginning to swim into focus. “Immune to chemicals?” I ask. That explains so much—the vague feeling of always being an outsider in the UNA. The feeling that so many of us shared on the wheel.
“That’s the real reason you got sent to Prison Island Alpha. You and all the other kids like you. A genetic mutation protects your minds from being pacified by the chemicals in the thought-pills. The UNA also secretly infuses most of its food and water with chemicals, to keep the populace docile. Your government uses Island Alpha to test new drugs on those of you who are resistant to the drugs they already have. They go after kids who cross the zones because those are generally the most active and rebellious ones. They want to learn how to break the minds of teenagers like you. Kids who think for themselves, and might grow up to question their system.”
I stare back at him, horrified.
“We’re all dissidents ourselves from an earlier era, when the UNA exiled the scientists who didn’t agree with its policies and research,” Dr. Elliott continues. He gestures to the huge sandstone formation. “We’ve built tunnels and chambers inside that rock over there, like a honeycomb. We call the place Destiny Station. More than two thousand of us live inside it, trying to fight the UNA and countries like it.”
I look at Liam. He still seems wary. But I believe this man. I’ve been watching the people who are with him. They’re more afraid of us than we are of them.
“When we misdirect a plane here, we’re used to finding the occupants frozen, and then thawing them out in the temperature chambers in our lab,” Dr. Elliott continues. “I’m glad you two aren’t frozen. It’s a sign that the system on Island Alpha is finally crumbling. We know that the UNA is spending all its money on new war machinery. They can’t maintain the island anymore, so they’re in the process of abandoning it. They’ve put a containment wall around their entire cooling zone, because of all the leaks and spills. We think at some point they’re going to exterminate everyone on the island—unless they can find a drug soon that will defeat your genetic immunity, and brainwash you.”
The middle-aged woman steps up next to him. “I know both of you probably have questions. We have answers. Some but not all.” She’s looking right at me with intelligent eyes. “My name is Dr. Angeline Vargas-Ruiz. I’m an anthropologist too. Most of us are scientists here.” She holds out her hand.
My head is a jumble of data. Anthropologists. Australia. An outpost in the desert. I take Dr. Vargas-Ruiz’s hand and shake it. “My name’s Alenna Shawcross.”
I see a strange look pass across her eyes. She knows my name—I can tell. But how? Nothing makes sense to me anymore.
Liam looks at me, then at the woman. Grudgingly he says, “Liam Bernal.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replies.
I feel so tired that I just want to curl up in the sand and sleep for a thousand years. I see Liam’s shoulders slump, and his fists start to uncurl.
“Come with us. I bet you’re dying of thirst,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz says. “We have water and food, and fresh clothes too. Soft beds.” Everyone’s watching us. “You’re safe.”
Safe. It almost sounds like a joke.
“You believe them, right?” Liam whispers to me. I hear the longing in his voice. I feel it as well, my chest aching with hope.
“I think it’s okay,” I whisper back.
“Come, come,” Dr. Elliott says. “We have to get back inside the station as soon as possible.” The group starts to encircle us.
I don’t feel fear, just relief tempered with confusion. I look up at the sun. It’s hot enough to burn my face, but the heat feels wonderful after being inside the specimen archive.
I see men break off from the group and surround our fallen pod, as well as the other pods, which are scattered everywhere. Muscles heaving, they start dragging and pulling them across the sand like they’re taking them with us. I know these other pods must contain the frozen bodies of both villagers and drones.
“Let’s keep talking as we head back to Destiny Station,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz says, hurrying along. “We don’t want our movement to get picked up on satellite.”
“Someone’s still watching us?” I ask as Liam grabs my hand. We begin walking quickly across the sand with the group, heading toward Destiny Station.
“Someone’s always watching,” Dr. Vargas-Ruiz replies with a faint, sad smile.
As we walk, her companions start introducing themselves one by one. Their names wash over me. I’m thinking about how great it will feel to get a hot meal and a soft bed.
Then I feel guilty.
What about Gadya? And David, Rika, Sinxen, Veidman, and Markus? Didn’t they deserve to get rescued too? How will we even find David?
I think about all the others still stuck back on the wheel, either dead or entombed in the specimen archive. Liam and I didn’t abandon them by choice, yet I still feel like we’ve betrayed them.
Liam tightens his grip. “You okay?”
“Just thinking about everyone we left behind.”
He nods.
“How are we going to get back and save them?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Not until we learn more about what’s going on here.”
My eyes tear up, but I turn my face away so he doesn’t see.
Dr. Vargas-Ruiz slows her pace so she’s even with us. “That’s the opening to our base right there.”
She points at the clifflike face of the rock. I stare in the direction of her fingertip, wiping my eyes. The sandstone shimmers with diffraction patterns in the heat, and I don’t see anything. For a moment, I wonder if this whole thing—our escape, our landing, and our rescue—is just a delusion on my part.
The Forsaken (Forsaken - Trilogy) Page 31