Invaded

by Holly Hook

  “Maybe at the river. Calvin can follow it and reach the factory.” I quite liked the thought of Calvin having to trudge through this alien vegetation. As far as I knew, it wouldn't hurt him. “We'll drop him off at the bank of the river.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Matt said. “We can't waste our attention guarding him once we get to where the spaceport is. It sucks that we have to walk past that area.” Matt nodded at me and smiled. He liked my thinking.

  I blushed. I had an idea of how Matt felt about me. There was more in that smile than just battle planning.

  A green boy from Mars had a crush on me.

  Did I have one back? Matt had brought me the truth, after all, and showed me my purpose when my parents couldn't.

  Since no choppers appeared on the horizon and no pulse cannons magically appeared from the foliage, I felt okay about guarding Calvin. The guy didn't dare move. He had turned his head away again. In shame? I hoped.

  At last, we reached the river. The walker ground to a stop and something squealed in one of the gears below. Matt turned us around, stepping over the tunnel, to check everything for any other approaching tripods or worse. So far, so good. Of course, we couldn't see more than a couple of kilometers in this smog, but we'd hear another something coming in time to take action.

  Calvin pushed himself up, shaking like a newborn deer. That was another creature that probably didn't exist outside of the parks anymore. I couldn't imagine a spotted faun following its mother out here.

  “We're dropping you off,” I said.

  Calvin showed no surprise. We hadn't kept our plans from him. He'd heard every word Matt and I exchanged. He stood by the hatch as I lifted the baton again. He was too weak to fight back right now. I knew how he felt. We had to act fast, or he would try to overpower us. Matt had atrophied muscles. I was stronger than him, but Calvin was bigger than me. It would only be a matter of time before he managed to get this weapon back and kick us to the curb.

  The thought of wading through that red stuff sent shudders down my spine. “You're climbing down the ladder,” I said.

  Calvin shook his head. He looked more like a giant sheep now than an Enforcer. Somehow, his uniform looked less intimidating on him and sadder. The Enforcers had become useless. The Grounders had made sure of that. Before, I had looked up to the Enforcers. They were the protectors of society, after all. Kids dressed up as them for Halloween.

  All of this had made them nothing, and it was sad.

  “I don't know if I can make it down the ladder.” He punctuated his sentence by leaning over and grabbing onto the wall for support.

  “He's right,” Matt said. So far, my partner had more sympathy for the Enforcer than I did. I had hardened more than I thought I would during this conflict. I must have inherited my grandfather's need to fight. Matt had awakened that as well.

  “Then we'll climb down with you,” I said, mind working. “I'll be on the bottom of the ladder, and Matt will climb down above you. I'll even help you move your legs if you want.”

  “Both of you should climb down below me,” Calvin said. He made a face that would make most feel sorry for him.

  “Nope,” I said. “Why? So you can climb back up and take the walker, leaving us stranded?” Calvin had stepped on one of his comrades. I had no reason to believe he wouldn't do that, and let us fall off the ladder as he took off with the walker.

  “Tess has a good point,” Matt said. “She goes down first with the baton.”

  “And if you try anything, I will hit you again,” I said. “I don't care if you're on the ladder.”

  “Attacking an Enforcer means life imprisonment,” Calvin pointed out. He was trying hard.

  We couldn't keep him on board. We had nothing to bind him unless Matt and I wanted to go down and cut some red vines. “Do you think we care about that after killing two dozen Grounders?” I asked. “They're going to do a lot worse than that to us. You won't want to be with us when that happens.”

  My voice was hard. I had never heard myself speak like this before. I sounded like my mother. Great.

  Matt smirked. I was going to hit him as soon as we got rid of Calvin.

  “Okay,” Calvin said, pushing the word out. “You climb down first. You do know that if you hit me with that baton while I'm on the ladder--”

  “You'll die,” I said. “You'll fall into that red stuff and die. Don't worry. Just walk along the riverbank until you get to that whatever factory.”

  “Smog factory,” Matt said. “I think some of them exist only to pump that stuff into the air.”

  “Whatever!” Calvin shouted, straightening up. He was shaking less. The guy was overcoming the baton's effects. We didn't have much time. It was risky enough, but keeping Calvin meant a distraction from any coming battles and him taking back over. It meant sacrificing my parents, which was something I wasn't willing to do.

  I feared that I was willing to sacrifice this Enforcer.

  In the end, I let Matt open the bottom hatch. We watched as the ladder descended and crashed into the red underbrush. I climbed down first, and Matt watched from above as Calvin put one shaky leg on the first rung. He was slow. I couldn't blame him, but the longer we waited, the longer the Identity radicals and the Grounders alike had to come after us. I wondered if Calvin had switched sides in the past few minutes and now rooted for the aliens.

  Glad that I hadn't gotten my father's fear of heights, I still tried not to look down at the red vegetation and the murky, listless river far below. The ladder had landed in the mud, and the first of our walker's legs sat in the water. Some green algae clung to the muddy banks. I wondered how much longer it would last, or if the Grounders would tolerate it as a pest.

  The closer I got to the river, the worse it smelled. I doubted a single fish still lived in these waters. A reek of sewage and chemicals joined in, right along with the stench of methane and maybe sulfur. This river might burst into flames if someone lit a match.

  I reached the ground, thankful I could land on a patch that wasn't too muddy. I staggered back, trying not to panic as the red foliage towered over me, some in shapes I hadn't imagined before. Remains of dead trees lay tangled everywhere. I crunched tangles of red bulbs and stalks under my feet, which bled a purplish-red liquid all over the ground. The methane smell remained as bad as ever. I stood only a few meters from the river, and now that I had gotten this close, I could make out a faint film on the surface. The river was far across, enough so that the walker would have to take several steps through it, and an old, rotting wooden dock stretched into the water. A rusted boat rested in the murk. Once upon a time, this had been a natural retreat for someone.

  Calvin landed on the ground. “What's happened out here?” he asked, turning in a circle. He lost his balance a bit.

  “Grounders,” Matt said, landing beside him. “Now, you're going to start walking down that river and towards the factory. It's that way.” Matt pointed. “If you want to see things go back to the way they were, you need to leave us alone. Tell the Great Council that we took you as a hostage, and you got away when we stopped to plot a way around the river. If you're lucky, they'll believe you. Grounders aren't very intelligent.”

  “Fine,” Calvin said, taking a step back.

  "Our voices sound strange," I said.

  There was something about the environment out here. I coughed, and the sound just...got absorbed. Nothing echoed. The red plants surrounding me quaked a bit as I gagged on the stench again as if excited that I was choking.

  "It's weird," Matt said. "All this crap is like one big shock absorber. It's quiet out here."

  Before we could say anything else about how creepy this was, Calvin reached into his pocket, drawing a switchblade knife.

  I had forgotten that Enforcers carried them in case they got disarmed. It was rare that they used knives, but it happened a few times a year somewhere in the world, and now Calvin was brandishing one at us. He still wanted the walker.

  “Now,” h
e said. “You two walk to the factory and give them that story. I'll be taking this thing to the Great Council. I'll free your parents.”

  “Bull,” I said, raising the baton higher. It hummed, ready for use. One of us would come out of this hurt, and I had the sense that I'd take some knife stabs before we took Calvin down. We would have to leave him here, paralyzed, with no guarantee of his safety.

  Matt stiffened. The red vegetation made his green skin stand out more than ever. It was as if someone had slapped some art filter on the world. What was the theme? Horror?

  “Drop that!” Calvin shouted, wielding the knife like a crazy guy. “Drop that right now! I'm taking this tripod thing!”

  “I can paralyze you,” I threatened, shocked at the power in my voice, even as the alien plants absorbed any echoes. Matt took a step towards Calvin, but Calvin turned to him and waved the blade.

  I saw my opening.

  I lunged at the Enforcer and swung my baton.

  The weapon struck his back, but not before Calvin swiped the knife at me.

  Hot pain flared across my forearm, right above where the Grounder had dug its tentacle. I caught a glimpse of blood, almost the same shade as the plants around us, flying through the air. Droplets mixed in with the crimson landscape. The mud below drank it. I dropped the baton, grasping my arm and seething.

  Calvin crumpled to the ground, helpless once more.

  “Tess!” Matt rushed over to me, eyes huge with concern. He grabbed my arm. “You're bleeding.”

  “Thanks for noticing,” I said, not meaning to sound rude. “We need to get up in the walker and open up that medical kit.” I had brought the one from home, but Matt and I had already used the emergency nanobots. All that remained was old-fashioned gauze for minor cuts.

  I eyed my wound. It wasn't a minor cut. Blood seeped out from around my fingers as I squeezed down on the wound. It wasn't pulsing like I had cut an artery, but patching this was still a good idea. I staggered back to the ladder, seething from the horrible pain.

  “I have to climb the ladder,” I said. “That means letting go of this.”

  Matt hesitated for a second, then took his shirt off. He was skinny and just as green underneath as I suspected. I could count his ribs, even though he wasn't on the verge of starvation. Matt seized Calvin's knife from the red underbrush and went to work cutting the gray fabric of his sleeve.

  He was making me a makeshift bandage.

  I wondered how he would look if he blushed—probably a deeper shade of green. But in this light, it was hard to tell. I coughed on the fumes coming from the river. A bit of vapor rose from it. Matt and I had both left our pollution masks somewhere. I had a feeling they were both sitting millions of kilometers away, on another planet. I hadn't realized how clean the air in the walkers had been until now.

  In the end, Matt cut a piece from his shirt and motioned for me to give him my arm. I did. More blood seeped out, but it didn't spurt in a way that a cut artery would. I forced myself to look away. A wave of nausea swept over me, and I feared a moment of weakness in the form of vomiting.

  But tenderly, with care, Matt wrapped my arm and tied the piece of gray fabric.

  “Is that better?” he asked.

  “Much. Thanks.”

  We stood there and stared at each other as Calvin managed a very weak groan. “We should go now,” Matt said.

  “I agree,” I said. “Ladies first again?”

  “Of course,” Matt said.

  I picked up the baton. It took me a minute to find it, as it had fallen underneath some rotting logs.

  The alien plants, it turned out, had hidden a critical fact from us. And that was the fact that another tripod had crept up on us, almost silent due to the sound-eating vegetation.

  Underbrush crashed, barely audible. An enormous leg crushed foliage and flattened the land only meters from us.

  The radicals had found us.

  Chapter Five

  Matt grabbed my arm again, but for a different reason.

  I said some pretty bad things. Two more giant, round legs crashed down as we stood in the shadow of our walker. Calvin managed a stronger groan.

  We would have to leave him. He may or may not survive. A tiny part of me hoped that the foliage hid him well enough.

  A bang sounded as the other walker rammed into ours. Ours held for a second, but the closest leg of the enemy's lifted and crashed down again, landing very close to Calvin. It was ironic that he might get stepped on after doing that to one of his friends.

  I had no time to dwell on the thought. Matt pulled me back, and I broke from my stupor. I backpedaled into him, and we went crashing down in the red plants together. I landed on Matt, face pressed against his green chest, as the enemy walker took another step. It must be radicals. Grounders wouldn't get up into these things due to the fear of heights. Fiona's plan to use the Grounders' fears against them did no good against the Mars Identity people.

  The horn blasted again, nowhere near as loud as it should be.

  “Show yourselves!” a woman shouted over a speaker that I didn't realize these tripods had. Her voice did not echo as the plants consumed it. The leaves around us shuddered.

  It was Marv's girlfriend, Celeste. She wasn't going to show mercy. Not if she'd figured out what had happened to Marv. This woman must have arrived in the third cylinder.

  She rammed into our walker again. The ladder wobbled.

  And then our walker began to topple, revealing the enemy one that towered above us. I clung onto Matt tighter. Red leaves tickled at my nose. The smog and green light made a sterile, surgical shine reflect off the metal of the tripod. Now that it was daytime, I couldn't see into the darkness inside. I could only see a bit through the reddish foliage.

  It didn't matter. The person within wanted to kill us.

  Matt tightened his grip on my injured arm as our walker fell, legs thrashing in the scarlet vegetation. The plants muffled the sound. I closed my eyes. Getting crushed might be fast. A flash of pain, maybe the sound of my bones popping...

  But instead, a shadow fell over us.

  I opened my eyes. We stood under Celeste's walker, facing the bottom hatch, and a heat beam swept above us and over the crimson weeds. It made the air shimmer. Smoke rose and flames danced. She was setting the Grounder forest on fire. The heat rays only worked against Grounder life.

  But the fires the vegetation was producing would work against us.

  Matt cursed again and pulled away from me. “We have to run for the river! She's trying to smoke us out!”

  Terror gripped me. Celeste must know what had happened to Marv. My animal brain took over, and I stood and pulled Matt towards the river. Flames roared higher and the beam died, but the damage had already started.

  So Matt and I raced for the river, jumping over fallen logs and leaving Calvin behind to almost certain death. An orange glow reflected off the smog as the smoke rose to join it. Some of it blew into my face, mixing with the stench of the river. The film remained. What if--

  We had no choice but to cross.

  I could not see where our walker had fallen. We had no time to see if we could get it back up. Matt and I were on foot now. We were victims, not fighters.

  “I see you!” Celeste shouted. I barely heard her before the plants ate her words.

  Heat flared at my back as flames roared.

  Matt and I dove into the disgusting water.

  I regretted it right away. The river smelled revolting, but we waded deeper in as the fire climbed behind us. The Grounder vegetation lit up like a stack of hay bales. The flames reflected off the water, making it seem as if we were wading through liquid fire. I tripped over slimy rocks and sank into the mud as the water rose to my chest. I glanced back to see Celeste's tripod eyeing us like a giant alien jellyfish.

  I could swim, but I wasn't sure about Matt. I looked at him. “Are you going to drown?” I asked.

  Matt stared at the grime floating on the water. It made strange, din
gy rainbows.

  “Oil!” Matt shouted, splashing forward.

  In one moment of horror, I understood.

  Celeste had herded us into a trap.

  I glanced back to see her tripod now stood over ours, triumphant and towering. The fire danced around the legs, harmless to Celeste, but rapidly spreading closer to the weed-choked shore. The heat gun had worked so well that the one blast might take out this entire dense forest.

  And us.

  The fire touched the bank of the river, and all hell broke loose.

  I held my breath as the surface of the river erupted into flames. The fire raced towards us, and I pulled Matt underwater.

  Murk surrounded us. The world turned to black and orange as if we had plunged into some underworld. The temperature rose, forcing me to hold in a grunt of pain. Matt's dark hair stood and floated as he eyed me and thrashed. I wanted to tell him to stay as still as possible. The more we moved, the more oxygen we'd use.

  Above, flames roared.

  My lungs began to burn, and I was used to swimming.

  Matt thrashed again. He needed air. Even his plant cells couldn't help him underwater.

  We had to get to the other shore, so I nodded to Matt and swam.

  The oil couldn't cover all of the river—right? It came in patches. Fields. If there were no bare spots, Matt and I would die.

  I kicked my legs, lungs burning. The fire continued above. The hellish light illuminated slimy rocks. I couldn't be sure which way I was swimming. But at last, the water darkened. My ears rang. I drifted over the riverbed a little more, over algae and struggling moss, and kicked my way to the surface, Matt in tow.

  We broke the water.

  I sucked in a breath and Matt coughed.

  Red weeds and ferns and bulbous things loomed over us, but they weren't on fire. We were only a few meters from the opposite shore, and the flames danced on the other side of the river. The oil field didn't cover the entire surface. Only patches. Thick, black smoke rose and blocked our view of the enemy tripod. It might be the only reason Matt and I still lived. Perhaps Celeste was waiting to see our charred remains floating on the water, or waiting for us to show up downstream.