Infusion

by Alyssa Thiessen

  What would they say if I came back with a solid lead?

  I concentrated on peeling back the atmosphere around me. A small hole appeared, a tiny pinprick that rapidly widened. It was so much easier than before. Opening faster and farther, I stood in their world just like that. Taking stock of the dry and lifeless surroundings, I noticed a large cluster of structures in the distance as well as spaceships, more like rockets than airplanes. Supply transport. The last time I was there, I hadn’t had enough time to investigate.

  I walked toward the buildings. It took too long, and I was exposed. I broke into a jog but tried to keep my footsteps light. Nearing, I saw structures crumbling, each in a different stage of decay. I slid up beside one and searched for a window or an open doorway. There were none. It made sense. With a destructive, corroding atmosphere, they’d want to keep things as closed off as possible. It didn’t make finding clues any easier. I crept around the side of a building and then moved on to the next. Clanging metal caught my attention, and I scanned the area for the source. Two buildings over, a door opened. I expected light to flood the space, but the inside was darker than outside. A murky shape—black against darkness—moved through the doorway. The creatures didn’t need light to see.

  I darted around the corner of the metallic building. My best guess was that it was a working place. Research, maybe. Perhaps the bridge. But the building was no different from the others. Too dark.

  I peered around the corner, looking for the solitary creature who’d passed through the entrance. If I hadn’t hidden, if I’d been able to grab it, I might’ve discovered something valuable.

  After a while, my legs grew stiff and my fingers ached. The air was thin here, too dry and cold at night to stand still. I started toward the next building, concentrating on blood flow into my extremities.

  It was the same as the others: large, square, metal. I explored the outside, examining closely for an opening, running my fingers along the surface. I reached the groove of a door and pressed. It moved without sound. I listened, verifying there were no voices on the other side, and pushed harder. The door opened to complete blackness. I wished I’d thought to bring a flashlight. Peering into the room, I waited for my eyes to adjust to dark. I could make out a main entrance and at least two corridors. I stepped back and eased the door closed. Moving on to the next building, I found the door and examined the inside. Also dark, but the layout appeared to be the same. How would we find what we needed to know here?

  The skin on the back of my neck prickled, and I glanced around. Someone—something— was watching me. The horizon held only shadows. I had to move, to hunt, not be hunted. Stalking through darkness, I reminded myself I could go back anytime. I felt close to discovering something usable.

  If I just held out a little longer.

  I ducked behind a gutted building and waited for the creature following me. Its footsteps and steady breathing were the only sounds in the quiet night. It walked past, wisp-like, bald and gray.

  I stepped out behind it, and my fist connected solidly with the back of its neck. It went down but sprang back on its feet faster than Sarah had ever done. Its hand darted out as it straightened. Too close. Claws slashed across my arm and chest. My skin flamed. I yelped and stumbled backwards as it lunged again.

  I regained my footing and punched harder than before. It was on its back. Then it wasn’t. It advanced. I shifted and kicked hard into its chest. I spun with momentum and kicked higher, harder, connecting with its head. I struck with my fists, my feet, again and again, giving it no time to recover.

  It fell. I leapt on and pinned it to the ground. My fingertips pressed on its temple. The images were dark and strange, but there were faces, emotions. Some akin to fear and rage, but not human. I tried to sort through its memories, but it was hard. I didn’t know exactly what to search for. A bridge, yes, a bridge. An opening. And then there it was: a wide field on this side of the dimension. The structure towered, broad and gloomy. What did it look like on my side?

  The creature’s thoughts faded, and I rose. I watched it for a moment, but it didn’t move.

  Cautiously, I stepped to the next building. If that was the bridge, then I was in the wrong place. It was far away from buildings— standing apart. It made sense for them to have it in an open space. Greater visibility for them, more difficult to infiltrate the area without being spotted. Unless one knew where the corresponding construction was on our side.

  I focused on a point just beyond me. Time to go.

  A creature crashed into me. I flew through the air and landed hard on my back. The breach sealed. On all fours, the creature weighted me to the ground. I threw my hand up to protect my throat. It sank sharp teeth deep into my forearm. Screaming, I yanked my arm back. Flesh tore away in the creature’s mouth. I braced, pushed, and sent the creature flying.

  I scrambled to my feet. Another creature rounded the corner of a building nearby. It stopped, stared at me a brief moment, then bounded toward me. The first creature was back on its feet. I dodged the second’s attack. Both closed on me at the same time. I grabbed the first one’s arm and propelled it into the second. Both slammed to the ground. Then they were up and lunged again, moving as one. I was faster—more agile than I thought possible, stronger than when I sparred with Sarah. Light-headed, I listened to my body and training.

  But they were tireless. No matter how many times I threw them off, they kept coming. I could barely catch my breath. I wasn’t going to win. I turned and ran, and they gave chase. I wished I’d brought the weapon Tyler had shown me.

  My hands were raw, stinging. Blood streamed down my arms.

  Their footsteps faded behind me. I veered away from the buildings and into dark. Ahead, something in the distance moved directly toward me. I tried to alter course but it seemed to track me.

  I skidded to a stop as another creature, similar in structure and color to the others, advanced rapidly. Similar in shape, but much, much bigger. It was several feet taller than me, and its arms were thicker, its shoulders broader. Its black eyes fixed on my position.

  It snarled.

  It opened its mouth wide and shrieked—loud, inhuman, terrifying. Screams echoed back.

  More approached.

  I had to open the portal to safety. I was spent from my fight and blood loss. The new creature wasn’t like the others. I focused on a point nearby. It should have been easy. There was a pinpoint of light. It flickered then disappeared. Blinding pain seared my upper arm.

  The creature whipped me around like a rag doll. My head smashed against the hard earth. Dizzying pain rushed through me. I struggled unsteadily to my feet. That thing was fast and on me again. Its claws impaled my shoulders and lifted me.

  I screamed. My voice cracked.

  I was going to die. Killed by the creature. Consumed. Saliva dripped onto my cheek as it turned me slightly and closed the distance between our faces.

  You have what you need. Elliot’s voice. It wasn’t my imagination or a message from beyond. It was memory. Elliot spoke to me before I’d been shot.

  A different kind of cry tore from my throat. I struggled frantically. I jerked my knee up, caught the creature in the ribs. Its grip loosened. I snapped my elbow up and connected hard with its eye. Then I rolled. Sticky blood dripped from my fingertips. I turned to run.

  It leapt at me. I jumped to avoid it. Its nails raked down my back. I surged forward stumbling as another creature bounded toward us. It dove forward, grabbing my leg. Its teeth sank into my calf.

  I forced my head up and focused on the distance. Shutting out pain, I concentrated on a circle of light.

  Another arrival jumped me. It seized my arm and twisted it behind me. Something snapped. More of them fell on us in a rush of clawed feet.

  My lungs burned. The edges of my vision darkened.

  Focus.

  No pain.

  Just focus.

  The black world peeled. Light expanded to bluer darkness. Then, the pressure was gone.
Only pain remained as I leapt to my own reality.

  Chapter Twelve

  My cheek rested on cold pavement. I raised my head. I lay in the middle of a highway. It was almost black, aside from the pale light of a crescent moon. I tried to move, but my raw nerves reacted, and I choked back a scream. I lay still, trying to think. Using my unbroken arm, I forced myself up, teeth clenched. Fire ripped through the torn shoulder muscles. Eyes squeezed shut, I dragged myself across the road. It wouldn’t help to get hit by a car. I pulled myself along the rough shoulder. No way to walk. I was bleeding to death. I made myself move, groaning with every breath. At the graveled roadside, I lay on my side. I glanced away from the highway, beyond the ditch.

  Tall, brown fences separated me from the residential area on the other side. I didn’t recognize them, but home wouldn’t be too far. Not that I could go there. Not like this. I sensed the others, their fear and panic emanating from four directions. What happened? I couldn’t help them.

  Lights of an oncoming car illuminated the darkness around me. Mustering strength, I got to my feet, pain shooting through my heel and up my thigh. I staggered to road. A car was in the opposite lane. I wasn’t sure if the driver saw me.

  A blue Benz rolled to a stop a few feet away and reversed. I’d just been to an alternate dimension and battled aliens alone, but all I could think of was my mother’s warning about hitchhiking. As the car slid up, the worried face of a female driver peered out. She left the vehicle and opened the rear door.

  She came to my side. “You’re going to be okay.” She helped me into the seat. Her voice strained with fear as she reached across to snap my seatbelt. “My phone’s dead, but we’re not far from the hospital.”

  As soon as she was back in her seat, I felt the car accelerate and then turn.

  I leaned against the tan seats. My jeans were soaked through with blood. It ran down my temple, too, and seeped through the arm of my sweater. Her upholstery would never be the same after this. How would I possibly explain the extent of my injuries? I glanced in the side mirror—one of my eyes was swollen shut. If I let her take me to a hospital, what kind of story could I use?

  “What happened?” She sounded calmer.

  “I crashed my bike,” I uttered weakly.

  “I didn’t see a bike.”

  “It was farther down the road. “ I thought for a second. “Can you take me to St. Mary’s? All my information is there.”

  “Grace Emergency is closer.”

  “Please. My doctor will be there, and our insurance ...”

  I felt the car surge, and knew she’d bought the part about insurance.

  “Okay,” she sounded reluctant. “We’ll be there soon.”

  The drive seemed to take a long time. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I watched passing buildings. I couldn’t go to the hospital. The area looked familiar. We were just a few blocks from Tyler’s house. It was why I asked for St. Mary’s.

  As we approached his street, I grabbed her arm. “Wait ... please ... I’m going to be sick!” She slowed, jerking to a stop in the middle of the road.

  I lunged out of the car. Almost collapsing, my damaged legs strained to move. I stumbled across the street, willing myself to walk. She called after me. I limped into bushes to cross a decrepit playground. I collapsed beside a tree on the other side, completely immersed in shadows.

  She called a few more times, and then her car door slammed. The engine revved as she accelerated. I listened for a while, but she was gone. She’d call the police when she got to a phone. By the time they got there, I’d be at Tyler’s—or dead.

  Pushing myself up, I gritted my teeth and stood to take a step forward. I retraced my previous path across the park and then to Tyler’s street. He lived a few blocks away. I leaned against a streetlight to rest. The metallic taste of blood made me retch. I wondered if I could make it. My head spun, eyes blurry. Cold. I moved again, dragging my foot, trying to shut out the pain. Just one more step. Then another. I wished Tyler wouldn’t have to see me in that state. I didn’t know where else to go. Home was out of the question. Lisa’s, too.

  At the front of his building, I looked for his apartment number to ring up. I pushed it once.

  A feminine voice answered, “Hello?”

  “Is ... Tyler home?” My voice was hoarse.

  “Sorry. He’s out. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

  I didn’t reply and, after a moment, the intercom clicked in disconnect. I slid down the wall, sat on the steps and leaned my head against the cool railing.

  Why had I been so stupid? I closed my eyes. My head pounded. Distant rumbling drifted through the air. Thunder? Could I be struck by lightning again? I wondered if life could possibly become more ironic. The growl grew louder, then disappeared, followed by footsteps.

  Tyler.

  I glanced up, trying to focus.

  “Rachel!” His voice was so close. He knelt down in front of me. He caught my mental images of the creatures. “What were you thinking?” he murmured.

  I heard him fumble for his keys, then stand to unlock the door. He swept me up in his arms, shoved the door open wider with his shoulder, and marched up the stairs, taking two at a time. At his apartment door, he banged once. The deadbolt slid open.

  “What’s wrong?” It was the woman’s voice from the intercom. Her blurred face came into focus. I recognized her from his thoughts. His mother.

  “My friend’s hurt.” He brushed past her and carried me through the main area to his bedroom.

  “What happened?” Concern etched her voice.

  “House party got out of control.” He was quicker and more convincing than I’d ever been. “That’s why we can’t take her to the hospital. They’ll call the cops for sure. Her folks will flip. Her dad, especially.”

  She hesitated. “Let’s take a look.” My mom never would have gone for that. She would have been calling in a second.

  He laid me down on the bed, stepping back as his mother came closer to examine me. She picked up my wrist gently. My weak pulse resonated back to me through her touch.

  “Hi, my name is Margo.” She watched my eyes as she moved her finger back and forth in front of me. I tried to follow. A month or a moment later, she cut away my clothing. I never liked those jeans anyway. I tried to form a thought. Her hands worked deftly over my body, turning me to examine the wounds on my shoulders, arm, side, legs. She carefully prodded the strange angle of my broken arm. My mind clouded with pain.

  Tyler’s eyes were wet.

  “You okay?” I remembered the fear I sensed from the team.

  “Me?” His voice was unsteady. Tyler crying? Impossible. He turned away and focused on his phone, texting furiously.

  Margo covered my body lightly with his sheet, then stood. “It’s like she’s been attacked by some kind of animal. Don’t tell me this is from a party.”

  “Someone’s dog got loose—”

  “There’s no way a dog did this kind of damage.” She glanced back at me. “I need to call—”

  “You can’t.” There was something about his voice she responded to, something that made her ignore her better judgment.

  “Then I need my bag.” She hurried past him, stopped to look back. “And you have quite a bit of explaining to do, young man.”

  He nodded.

  As soon as she was gone, he knelt beside me. “What were you thinking?” he whispered furiously. “We looked everywhere for you.”

  “You did?”

  “We all felt it. Fear, then intense pain. We thought—I thought ...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “We checked everywhere, Rachel.”

  “My parents?” I thought of my mom.

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “Dee went there to ask about you. Your parents had no idea how you’d left the house. They called the cops right away.”

  I groaned.

  “What were we supposed to do? Everyone was flipping out.”

  Margo came back in with a huff, pushing Tyler aside wi
th her arm, and set a bag down beside my head. “I’m a doctor, sweetie.” She tried to sound reassuring. “You’re in good hands.” She held my wrist again and studied the watch she wore. “Thready.” She looked at my eyes, her tongue worrying her bottom lip. “She needs a hospital, Tyler.” Sending a sidelong glance at her son, she dabbed the blood, then swabbed the skin with disinfectant-soaked gauze. “Her cuts are very deep. There’s a lot of blood loss. And what about rabies? And pain management?”

  “I’m managing,” I said through clenched teeth. That’s what I meant to say. It came out more as a strangled sob. Maybe I wasn’t managing so well.

  “I’m calling someone.” She rose. He held her arm, smoothly stopping her.

  “Mom, you can’t. I was part of this—I’ll get arrested. And her dad will kill her.” The way he said it startled me—as if it were true, as if he knew she’d believe him.

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Well, I hope we don’t.” She hurried out of the room.

  He glanced after her. “She’s getting some pain meds from the cabinet.”

  I sensed her anger; we’d put her into an impossible situation.

  “I can’t let her take you to the hospital. The doctors won’t be able to do enough without us, and they’d keep us from you.” Tyler took my hand. “We’re the only ones who can help.”

  Seen through his eyes, my face was severely bruised and swollen, and a deep gash ran from my left eye to below my chin. The rest of my skin was sickly white. I hardly looked like myself. Tyler didn’t emanate revulsion, though, only fear and remorse.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  He shook his head, but I flashed to the image of me collapsed on his front stairway. Before he’d approached on his bike, scarcely before he discerned a shape in the distance, he’d known it was me. When he first saw me there, he thought I was dead. He thought he failed to protect me.

  His mom returned. “Take these.” Her voice was firm but kind, and she placed pills into my mouth, holding a glass so I could drink. “Tiny sip.” I swallowed them. “They’re only T3s, but they’ll help a little.” She turned to Tyler. “She’s losing blood. The worst punctures are torn, especially on her shoulders. There are lacerations on her legs and side.” She pulled more gauze from her bag. “I don’t have rapid clot dressings, but we have to stop the bleeding. A few of her wounds need stitches.” She glanced up at Tyler, then started on my shoulder.