“Watch your step—the sidewalk’s cracked.”
I helped Sammie dodge the rubble, cringing when her bare feet skirted the sharp edges of broken concrete. Her shoes had gotten so worn out they’d disintegrated. I’d have to find some new ones soon. For both of us. Mine had gotten so bad I’d tossed them a couple weeks ago. They’d slowed me down when I had to run. Better to go with nothing.
One of the windows on the first floor was missing. Inside, only a handful of Anemies dotted the space. Good, not too crowded.
I hoisted Sammie through. Then I hopped in after her, landing as quietly as possible. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t any secret we wanted a place to stay for the night. So did the other kids here. But habit won and staying quiet equaled survival, so that’s what we did.
The air held tight to whoever and whatever stayed here before. Body odor, urine, mold: it all blended into one nauseating, nostril-burning mess. Dad had called it organic perfume. It would be funny if it weren’t so gross.
Sammie hovered by the window, eyes wide. Sucking on the food pellet, she took a tentative step forward, her face flashing a mix of interest and fear. I hated seeing both emotions. Fear broke my heart. Curiosity made me scared—for her and for me. Losing her… no.
My stomach churned. It wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.
“Let’s go upstairs.” I directed her to the stairs by her shoulders.
She shrugged away from me, scraping her hair behind her with both hands, ready to greet the room like a princess.
I sighed. She shouldn’t have to grow up in a world like this. I supposed there were worse places to play pretend. Except we needed to bed down before more Anemies came along to take prime spots.
Sammie pointed to a narrow door in the far corner. “What’s there?”
One second was all it took. She skittered across the floor like a mouse searching for cover and halted at the door. Tiny footprints in the thick dust marked her path. Reaching for the doorknob, she said, “Help me.”
I joined her. What choice did I have?
She twisted the handle, and the door opened with a stubborn whine. Inside, rows of shelves held textbooks, maps, props, and art supplies, all covered with a layer of grime. This stuff was old. Amazing no one had burned it for heat or cleared it out for a neat hidey-hole.
“What is it?” Sammie explored the closet, touching every little thing.
“This used to be a school.”
“School?”
“Yeah.”
I didn’t bother explaining. She wasn’t paying attention anyway. A basket stuffed with long, rolled up papers stood next to a stack of packages labeled Drawing Paper. I dragged one of the tubes out. It was taller than Sammie. A rubber band held it in a tight cylinder.
“Open it!” She squirmed.
I rolled the rubber band to the end, and I passed it to her. She’d have some fun stretching the thing.
She slid her hand through the middle of the band and wore it like a bracelet.
I unraveled the paper, laying it on the floor and pinning the curling edges with a couple books. While Sammie hovered in the corner on her knees, I traced the oval island’s outline. It cleaved a river in half. The thing looked like New City. It had the same grid-style streets and avenues dividing its body into hundreds of individual blocks, but the title read New York City, circa 2027.
“What is it?” She leaned on her palms, her dirty blonde hair draping around her pixie face.
“A map of New City, a long time ago,” I murmured.
“Is the dome there?” She scanned the map.
“No. This is from before. See? No Vie buildings are marked here.” I pointed to several landmarks marked on the southern half of the city. “City Hall, St. Paul’s, Manhattan Bridge Gate…” My fingers skimmed more places, but I stopped reading them out. The names meant nothing to me, other than that they’d been demolished and replaced by Vie skyscrapers, luxury apartments, and Abarron Pharmaceuticals and Laboratories.
All owned by the Vie-est of the Vie, the “king”, the leader, Nathan Abarron. The “man” who changed the world. If you could call him that. Vie looked similar enough to us, go figure—well, except for their fangs, of course—but they were aliens, extra-terrestrials, non-humans. And once they’d moved into our neck of the galaxy, they had no intention of letting us keep control of our own planet. Nice of them to decide, right?
“Why are these things still here?”
“Must not be worth much.” I stood, abandoning our find. “Come on. Let’s find a place to sleep.”
Sammie slid the books off the map and rolled it up into a crooked and loose cylinder. Neatness: a not so easy task for tiny hands.
“What’re you doing?”
“I want this.”
I snatched the thing from her and stuffed it in the basket. “No. It’s too big.”
I draped an arm around her to move her out of the closet. She whined, but only a little bit.
“You get to pick out the room. Upstairs.”
I chose the building, she chose the room—as long as it was on an upper level. Most times, Anemies on the first floor died during the initial wave of a raid. Those upstairs, if they acted quickly, could sneak out before Vie moved on to them. Therefore, the second floor offered more security. Yes, it was heartless to think about other people dying so you could escape. But survival meant choosing between strangers and Sammie, and the choice was easy. I’d choose Sammie every time.
Map suddenly forgotten, she skipped to the stairs. Distraction—my best strategy in Sammie Management.
I followed her, ignoring the watchful eyes of the Anemies already bedded down. Most kids here were younger than me. Good. Less chance of a fight.
Sammie paused about a third of the way down the hallway and pointed right. “I like this room.”
A streetlight shined outside the grimy window. Sammie’s fear of darkness pretty much guaranteed she’d pick a room with some light.
I tucked us into the closest corner, using my arm to cushion her head. Corners gave me the best view so I could keep an eye on the door, windows, and other Anemies.
Repeating the rules helped me believe they’d keep us safe.
Sammie curled into a ball next to me.
I clenched my jaw and waited for dawn.
Year 75, Month 5, Day 18, pre-dawn
siren broke the night’s tense silence like the call of a lone wolf. I sat up, alert, body turning to ice with dread. Other Anemies scrambled into action, gathering meager belongings and crowding the window to keep watch or booking it down the hallway and stairs to run away before the raid party showed up.
“They’re stopping here, Justin.” Sammie trembled next to me.
“Maybe not.” I smoothed her greasy hair. My hand shook. We’d been lucky for so long, dodging raids and guards and Vie and illness and total starvation, I’d almost convinced myself—
Another siren joined the first. The lone wolf was turning into a pack.
Please let them keep going. I don’t want to die.
We both crouched lower, as if curling into living meatballs would prevent Vie from attacking us.
“I’m scared.” Sammie’s shrill voice shredded my eardrums. I covered her mouth with my hand, but she pawed me away. She hated the feeling of suffocation.
“You have to be quiet.”
Vie could hear our whispers, smell our bodies, sense our movements. I licked my dry lips and grimaced at the salty, dank sweat pouring out of me. No wonder they hated us. Our stench. Our weakness.
Such a contrast from their perfection. Vie. Pure predator.
My heart hammered even faster, beating in time with the sirens’ pulses.
“Please keep going,” I murmured.
The siren cut off as suddenly as it had started. Maybe we lucked out one more time. I brushed my finger over Sammie’s eyebrow, a signal for her to be ready. She tucked her legs under her and leaned forward. We waited.
Boom!
The
sharp crack of the explosion rocked the building. Knock, knock, guess who’s here?
“Grenades!” someone screamed.
I stuffed down a yell. Even a small flame sparked a panic attack in me, let alone an uncontrollable inferno. The scars on my back and legs had long since healed, but the memory remained as fresh as the day my flesh cooked in the campfire I’d fallen into when I was ten.
Sammie buried her face in my chest. Her body shook with sobs.
“It’s okay, we know what to do, right? We’ve practiced this a million times.” I soothed her but found little relief myself.
Take a deep breath. Count the seconds. Keep your wits. Don’t follow the herd. Wait for the perfect breakaway.
The other Anemies scattered like a bunch of startled cockroaches. Some smashed the windows and jumped; others fled the room, only to return a moment later and hide in a bare corner.
I held Sammie tight, waiting for the right time, searching for the order in the chaos.
With any luck, we could slip through and escape while Vie slaughtered everyone below. I’d heard the stories hundreds of times, but I never stuck around long enough to see it.
“To the roof,” I whispered in Sammie’s ear. We scurried across the linoleum floor and paused at the door. I tucked Sammie behind me and peeked out. Kids crammed the hallway, shoving and pushing one another, without really getting anywhere. Yellow flashlight beams bounced along the walls and ceiling. Were Vie already working their way upstairs?
The acrid smell of smoke filled the hallway. Could be fire from the grenade or could be flamethrowers. Twinges of phantom pain crackled over my back.
A boy, no more than five or six like Sammie, stumbled into me. Short enough to squeeze under peoples’ flailing limbs, he must’ve come from a nearby room. He grabbed my arm, eyes wide with fear.
“Help me!”
His high voice barely squeaked past his chapped lips. Hollow-cheeked and skeletal, he probably wouldn’t last much longer, raid or not. Then again, Anemies didn’t have a long life span. If not death by Vie, it was usually death by anemia. A Vie taking him would be a blessing.
I chewed my cheek, hating myself for even thinking such a thing.
Sammie extended her thin, pale hand to him. “Come with us.”
“No. We go alone.”
I yanked her hand away from the kid. It made my soul ache, but he’d slow us down and then we’d all end up dead. I couldn’t risk losing my sister. Plus I had a hard enough time keeping two mouths fed, let alone a third. If we made it out.
I had to choose Sammie first. Sammie always came first.
The boy cried. Sammie cried. I blinked away my own furious tears and swallowed the rage expanding inside. Anger at the injustice of it wouldn’t save him. Neither would hating myself.
I shoved Sammie into the stream of bodies before letting myself reconsider. We waded through the mess of limbs and screams and cries, a two-human life raft in a sea of flesh. My sweaty grip around her slender wrist slipped.
“Sammie!” I stretched for her, grabbed onto her collar.
“I can’t see,” she cried, wrapping her frail arms around mine.
“Keep going.” Please, don’t stop. Don’t.
The cries echoing behind us turned to screams of agony. The sickly sweet and bitter smell of singed flesh filled my nose. They had brought flamethrowers.
“Sammie, go, go, go, go, go!” I kept shoving.
“I can’t. You’re hurting me.” Sammie stumbled, tripping over her own feet.
We reached the end of the hallway. Other kids pooled there, stopped by the locked door. A sign read, ROOF ACCESS.
We needed to get through that door. Otherwise, we’d stupidly cornered ourselves in a dead end.
“Get out of the way!” I yelled, shoving kids to the side. “We have to open this door. It leads outside.”
Behind us, fresh screams erupted, followed by a prolonged whoosh.
“Justin, fire!” Sammie pounded on my hip.
I glanced over my shoulder. Two Vie dressed in combat gear and gas masks surged down the hallway, fanning flamethrowers back and forth to bathe the trapped Anemies in fire. Would’ve been easier for them to just toss a few more grenades or take the whole building down with explosives, but they liked this better. They liked seeing us scramble and cower, eyes wide with terror and pain. They liked to make it personal. Sick bastards.
The kids around us fled to the nearest rooms, leaving Sammie and me to fend for ourselves at the locked door.
My throat went dry.
“Shit,” I croaked.
Heart pounding, I slammed all my weight against the metal door. Bam! It creaked and shuddered. I went for it again. Bam! Nothing.
“Justin!” Sammie cried again.
“I know!”
A third strike. The hinges rattled. My shoulder felt like it would pop out of the joint any second.
“They’re almost here.”
“I know.”
I had one last shot before Vie roasted us. I took a couple steps back, bounced on my toes once, inhaled, and charged at the door like a bull.
Bam!
The lock snapped and the door swung open. I landed on my palms and knees, hard.
Sammie pounced on my back. “Shut the door,” she said.
With her on my back like a monkey, I rose and slammed the door shut.
“Upstairs, quick.”
It seemed like I ran through quicksand. I imagined the flamethrower Vie busting through behind us. It propelled me forward. Inch by inch, I lugged myself up the stairs and to the outside door. Blessedly, the padlock on the handle hung loose. I yanked it out of the hook and opened the door.
Heavy rain sheeted down, slicking every surface like lacquer and dimming the glow of the city lights. The door swung shut behind us with a determined thud.
I led Sammie to the edge of the building. Two stories. We could make it.
I swung a leg over the ledge.
“No. They’re down there.” Her soaked hair smacked her face as she shook her head.
If she fought me, I’d have to drag her off the roof and we’d go splat-splat on the ground.
“And they’re chasing us. Look, the alley is empty. We still have time.” I pulled her closer to me, jerking my head to get my own wet hair out of my eyes.
“I can’t. It’s too far.” She slipped out of my grasp. Her feet slopped in a puddle. Stubborn. A deadly trait. One my dad had.
“Come here,” I barked, pointing at the ground.
In seconds, we’d be overrun with Vie, and our only chance at escape would be lost.
“No.” She crossed her arms in five-year-old defiance.
I clenched my hands into fists. “We don’t have time to argue.”
“You said there’d always be a fire escape or ladder.”
“Well, there isn’t one. Now, come on!” I swung my leg back and lunged at her.
She ducked away.
Behind her, the door creaked open slowly. My heart leapt into my throat. I fully expected the arc of a flamethrower to mow us down.
It didn’t.
It was the boy. How the freaking hell had he gotten past a wall of Vie carrying flamethrowers?
“Please take me with you.”
Soaked from the rain and arms limp at his side, he seemed even weaker than before. His skeletal frame barely took up any space in his clothes.
“We have to help him.” Sammie motioned for him to join us.
His steps were short and stiff like his brittle bones might snap to pieces. He would break if I dropped him on the way down.
“I can’t carry both of you.” Even as I bitched, I held my arms out. I’d carry six kids if it got her moving.
She guided him toward me. “You first.”
He weighed less than her. Probably had rickets—an old disease that Dad had said made a comeback in Anemies since The Arrival from lack of good nutrition.
The metal door burst free from its hinges. A Vie, dressed
in all black, stood in its place, his body backlit by the flames left over from the Anemie barbecue. His fitted long coat seemed out of place like he was going out to dinner rather than on a raid. He stood well over six feet, judging by how his head skimmed the doorframe.
“There you are, little one. Wondered where you’d gone off to,” he said. “Ah, and you’ve found friends.”
Sammie screamed. I set the boy down and clamped my hands around her upper arms to hold her in place.
His gaze flicked over Sammie and me. “Going somewhere?” The monster’s deep voice, tainted with an accent, something uniquely Vie, echoed in my ears despite the heavy downpour.
“Don’t listen!” I clamped my hands over Sammie’s ears.
Vie, super strong in muscle power as well as mental abilities—thanks to Vitalus Sustennus, the vaccine that cured mortality, the (fake) promise to worthy humans, though I hadn’t heard of a single one who’d received it—could put us in an automatic and unbreakable trance with a simple voice command. It would be impossible to run or fight, no matter how much we wanted to.
Neither Sammie nor the boy moved.
The Vie kneeled, staring at the boy. “Come here, child. What’s your name?”
His voice wrapped around me like a blanket of rusty chainmail. Heavy and dark, it sucked the energy from my limbs.
“David,” the boy replied, stepping forward.
Risking my firm hold on Sammie, I circled an arm around his chest, pinning him to me as tightly as my sister. Why, I didn’t know. Standing up to a Vie wouldn’t change the outcome. He’d kill us all.
The Vie narrowed his eyes. “I gave you an order.”
“You can’t have him. He’s just a boy.” What was I doing? Always run. Always run. But we had nowhere to run to except straight over the building’s edge.
David struggled under my hold, squirming. He wailed then sunk his teeth into my arm. I gritted my teeth and pushed into the bite, rather than yanking away. Lucky for me, he let go without ripping into my skin. It was hard to be mad. Ungratefulness hadn’t motivated him—the trance did.
“You can’t refuse me.” The Vie stepped closer. He flicked his hand, gesturing for the boy to join him.
David twisted and drew his knee up. The blow landed… perfectly. Wheezing, I let go, dropping to my knees and gasping for air as fiery pain jolted through my groin. David ran to the Vie’s open arms.
Dawn of the Vie (Immortal Aliens Book 1) Page 2