The Deadliest Earthling

by Gibson Morales

  He is coming, the Anunnaki female said with a guttural screech. He is coming. We must leave.

  “We can save her,” Sarah said. The Anunnaki had an oval face, but since they didn’t wear lipstick or have eyelashes, it was hard to really get a sense of her gender.

  “Why would we, though?” Hamiad said.

  If they didn’t, a tiger would find her.

  “I think she’s in danger. Come on. Help me carry her,” Sarah said.

  Hamiad shook his head. “So Samir is going to let us off the hook because we brought an Anunnaki to him?”

  Sarah thought about the train he’d mentioned. Would he still let them board that? They didn’t have a lotus, but they’d survived the tigers. So far. Anyway, the Anunnaki’s warning seemed like a good reason to leave.

  “She’s telling us to go,” Sarah said. “She says someone is coming.”

  Hamiad and Skunk tensed.

  “If other Anunnaki were chasing them, they could eventually track the portal’s location,” Hamiad said.

  Sarah hadn’t considered that possibility. These two Anunnaki must’ve been prisoners or escapees of a kind. So other Anunnaki would track them here.

  “All the more reason to leave, then,” Sarah said.

  Hamiad nodded. “Fine. But I don’t see a reason to bring the Anunnaki.”

  Sarah imagined tigers surrounding the Anunnaki. She’d be helpless by herself. Another part of her wondered how she’d really survived the firestorm. Had someone seen her and the recruits on the verge of death and debated this same issue? Trying to determine whether to risk their necks to save them? Sarah couldn’t help but think somehow destiny was giving them a chance to pass on the kindness the goat herders had shown by bringing them here. “Goat herders may have found us, but how did we escape the firestorm? Someone must’ve been looking out for us. Well, I’m looking out for her. Or do you think she deserves death by tiger?”

  Maybe the Anunnaki could even answer why they firestormed New Bagram.

  Hamiad folded his arms and eyed her with skepticism.

  “This is insane,” Skunk said. “But she’s right. We were rescued from New Bagram. It’s karma.”

  “You don’t want to spend the rest of the night looking for a lotus, do you?” Sarah asked “If we get back to Utbashi with nothing—”

  Hamiad cut her off with a groan as he began lifting up the Anunnaki.

  He and Skunk accepted the arms of the Anunnaki, but she was tall enough that her legs still dragged. Sarah took it upon herself to grab her by the waist. It was an awkward setup, and Hamiad had to abandon their sticks and lamp. Which wasn’t a big deal with the stars out. Still, if a tiger sprang on them, they had nothing but Sarah’s knife.

  Even with their combined strength, the Anunnaki weighed a ton. Closer to a fourth of a ton, if Sarah remembered her biology teachings. After ten minutes, they managed to carry the Anunnaki out of the ravine. The effort ate up a lot of energy, though. Sarah saw no way they could carry her several miles.

  Please. You need to try and walk, Sarah whispered to the Anunnaki through lisps.

  “What are you doing?” Hamiad asked.

  The heat rose in Sarah’s cheeks as they walked again. This time the Anunnaki walked with them.

  “Nothing.”

  She’d almost let them hear her speaking Nebirian. The language used guttural noises, variations of lisping, and high-pitched screeches rather than actual words. Coming from a human, it sounded weird. Comical. Mitchell had cracked up the first time he heard her speak in Nebirian. But his laughter quickly faded. Please don’t ever make those noises around me again, he told her. You make me want to cringe.

  Sarah hadn’t been more embarrassed than that. Sometimes, she even wondered if hearing her speaking freaky Nebirian was part of the reason he kissed that other girl.

  Chapter 7

  The walk to Utbashi consumed several straining hours. Fatigue racked her entire body, her arms and legs burning with lactic acid. Knots dented her back, and aches formed in places she never would’ve imagined. Even taking breaks every fifteen minutes, she thought she could pass out at any moment.

  When they reached the road that led into the sleeping town, armed men with lamps spotted them and rushed out. Sarah expected hollering about the Anunnaki, but instead one whistled and a few more men came out. All wore the same dull green, brown, or grey military uniforms and black pants.

  The moments escaped Sarah as her back and shoulders throbbed from carrying the Anunnaki. She lowered her gaze to the dirt, wanting nothing more than to lie down right there and fall asleep. She needed to figure out what to tell Samir, but instead she massaged her neck.

  Her heart jumped a beat when she heard labored running from around the corner. Samir’s blue robe shook as he jogged over to them.

  “How did you find this?” he asked with wide, curious eyes.

  “She and another came via a snake hole. We think they were escaping from someone,” Sarah said.

  “And the other?”

  “Dead,” Hamiad answered.

  Samir nodded contemplatively and gestured to Sarah. “Come with me. Explain what happened. You two, return to the infirmary.”

  Hamiad stepped forward, fierce and emboldened. “We didn’t find the lotus. What’s going to happen to us?”

  Samir frowned. “Nothing yet. But I hope you aren’t planning to argue about it right now.”

  He lingered on the words, and Sarah got the sense he wouldn’t mind throwing a few guards at Hamiad. She flashed him a pleading look. Go back to bed. I’ll be okay. If they tried anything, she still had her knife.

  “Where is the infirmary?” Hamiad asked.

  Two men escorted them, leaving Sarah, Samir, a handful of guards, and the wounded Anunnaki.

  “We’ll keep her in the spare bedroom at the inn,” Samir said to his men. “Sarah, you and I must talk. I want to know everything that happened.”

  She walked to his side. “Hamiad was right. We didn’t find the lotus. We were searching, and then there was this bright flash. We heard pulse surges from the Anunnaki, and tiger roars. And…” How to phrase it so that it seemed like they had to save the Anunnaki? “And we saw them fighting. She said that someone was coming. She’d killed most of the tigers, and we figured we better not stick around for him to show up.”

  “This is a she?” Samir said, staring at her hanging head.

  Sarah nodded.

  “You said she warned you about someone?”

  “Yeah,” Sarah repeated. “I don’t know who. She fell unconscious before she could explain.”

  Samir exchanged words in Hindi with his men.

  They walked in silence the rest of the way.

  A colonial-style building almost as large as the mayor’s residency lay ahead, with candlelit top and bottom rooms. They crossed a lawn ornamented with hedges, tables, and trees, the place smelling of incense. An elegant table, white wood-framed couches, an overhead fan, and paintings of men in simple grey suits with simpler mustaches decorated the lobby.

  “Relatives of yours?” Sarah asked. She’d heard that long before the Anunnaki occupied Earth, the country of Britain had occupied parts of this region.

  Down the hall, the men deposited the Anunnaki onto a flimsy-looking bed that creaked under her weight. Samir moved to the window and unfurled the curtains. They were thin and yellow, so if he wanted to hide the Anunnaki’s presence, it did next to nothing.

  His men set a lit lamp on the dresser and spread out along the walls. Even with all of them inside, it didn’t feel crowded.

  Samir grasped the bed’s foot banister and gazed upon the Anunnaki, now rasping with slow breaths. She was in pain.

  “My friend was telling the truth about the lotus,” Sarah said.

  Samir nodded but said nothing. Standing to the side and behind him a few feet, she couldn’t determine whether he was furious, unconcerned, or still somewhere in between. She willed him to say something. Anything.

  Inst
ead, he motioned to the Anunnaki. A guard stepped forward and nudged her with the butt of his rifle.

  She blinked her orange pupils awake and studied them.

  “What is an Anunnaki doing here?” Samir asked her. “I specifically moved out of the Nagaland district to avoid your kind.”

  Thank you for saving me. But I can only speak Nebirian, she said.

  “Why did you come here?” Samir said louder.

  “She doesn’t speak English,” Sarah said.

  Where are we? the Anunnaki asked.

  In a city, Sarah said with a sucking noise. She didn’t care so much if Samir and his men witnessed her speaking Nebirian. Somehow, they didn’t seem the type to hold it against her. Not like her former classmates would’ve, anyway.

  Seeing their confused looks, Sarah explained, “I can speak Nebirian.”

  Samir pulled a paper and pencil out from the dresser drawer and wrote a message for Sarah. Tell her to raise her left hand. Writing this, rather than speaking, must’ve been his insurance measure in case the Anunnaki understood English. Even if the Anunnaki did, she wouldn’t know what Samir wanted translated.

  Sarah gave the instruction, and the Anunnaki followed it.

  “How did you come to speak Nebirian?” Samir asked, still skeptical.

  “My stepdad taught me. Made me learn it, really,” Sarah said with a tinge of regret.

  “I see,” Samir said, turning to face her. He interlocked his hands and rested them over his stomach. “Sarah, I believe you were telling the truth in your story. This Anunnaki may indeed have intruded on your lotus search. This is obviously not something that happens every day. And I cannot help thinking it may relate to your city’s destruction. If you will translate for me and see what this means, I would consider it a great help.”

  Just as he sensed honesty in her, she sensed it in him. But honesty wasn’t the same as full disclosure. He might even be trying to lull her into a false sense of security. Her mother warned her once about how the New Bagram sponsors had tried that on her. Never assume the other party is going to give in easily.

  “I want tickets or a ride or whatever onto the train tomorrow. Not just for me, but for any of the others from New Bagram who want it. And you have to heal them tonight too,” Sarah said.

  Samir let his face hang to the side. “You think you deserve all that for a simple translation?”

  “Do you know anyone else who can translate?”

  “No, but I don’t believe it’s worth me making this decision so suddenly.”

  He could downplay it all he wanted, but he’d made the mistake of implying just how important her translating could prove.

  Sarah shrugged. “Fine. If you don’t want to know who she was running from or why she came here, it’s okay with me. But wouldn’t Utbashi be a lot safer if you did?”

  Samir stepped toward the door, smiling knowingly. “I think we’d best continue this conversation in the morning. When you’re ready, this man will walk you back to the infirmary. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  He must’ve thought she wanted to spend some quality time with the Anunnaki. Not such a ludicrous idea, given that she’d saved her and risked a lot doing it. She chided herself. Looking back, the idea seemed stupid. Yet, it inspired no regret.

  If you’re finished talking to him, I think you should hear what I have to say, the Anunnaki said. Her directness startled Sarah. The guards stirred a bit at her speaking, but it meant nothing.

  You could’ve interrupted earlier, Sarah said.

  The Anunnaki smiled and gave a series of grunts and chirps. You seemed like you were having a heated discussion about someone. Probably me.

  Sarah nodded. She noticed a few of the guards blinking at them in astonishment. To their untrained ears, she and the Anunnaki were exchanging nothing more than bodily sounds and gibberish. To Sarah, the dips and rises and shifts of the grunts, screeches, lisping, chirps, and all the other noises were as good as phonetic shifts in words. They were like syllables, even if the words were interpreted.

  Are you ready? the Anunnaki asked.

  Fighting back a yawn, Sarah sat herself on the edge of the bed.

  I’m all ears.

  Chapter 8

  My name is Zatra. I was a soldier serving under the Ascendi.

  Sarah frowned. The “Ascendi,” if she’d understood Zatra correctly, was not a word she knew. As if aware of this, Zatra resumed.

  The Ascendi are Anunnaki, but not like us. They are genetic clones of each other, altered to be superior thinkers and highly strategic. But more than that, they were never aligned with the Sinsers. They were our prisoners coming to Earth, and we forced them to fight for us.

  Sarah nodded, willing herself to remember all of this.

  Currently there are just two. The Ascendi Major and the Ascendi Minor. They are plotting a coup against the Sinsers. When I learned of this, I knew I couldn’t go along with it. But the Ascendi have convinced too many soldiers to join them. Me and my friend had no choice but to flee in secret.

  Why? Sarah asked.

  The Ascendi have placed restrictions on our communications to avoid individuals like me who might try to warn the Sinsers. The Ascendi are normally aware of where all their soldiers are.

  So why were you out there with the tigers? Sarah asked.

  Zatra’s orange pupils dimmed. My friend learned something about the Ascendi’s plans. They planned to assault the city of Utbashi.

  One more time, Sarah said, not sure if she’d understood that last part correctly.

  They are coming to this city. They seek something here. I wanted to warn you.

  Sarah swallowed dryly, wishing she didn’t have to be here listening to this. Wishing the firestorm never hit. Things would’ve been so different. By now, the New Bagram graduating recruits would’ve been wasted, blackout drunk even. And other military personnel would be escorting them out of the city through a secret passage. She’d be saying her final good-byes to Johnny, Hamiad, Skunk, and her brother. As much as she had dreaded the dinner with Mitchell, it would’ve been long over. How fast time went sometimes.

  Instead, she was the one confronted with the threat of fighting Anunnaki. This was wrong. All wrong.

  “Sarah,” Hamiad said from the door. She whipped around to find him there, framed by a couple of guards.

  “How did you get here?”

  “I told them I needed to see you.”

  “Why?”

  A few seconds passed before Hamiad looked uneasily at Zatra. “It’s getting late, and I thought…”

  He could’ve finished the sentence a million ways. I thought you needed your rest. I thought you were in trouble. I thought I should hear what you two were discussing.

  Whatever the case, Hamiad stood there, resembling a boy who needed to use the bathroom. Jumpy, restless. The glow of the lamp carved the smooth parts off his face. He looked weary and intimidating under the cast of the shadows.

  Confusion consumed her. For as much as Zatra’s words made her want to vomit, she might’ve warned Sarah about the end of the world. The words confined her to a ball of misery. It seemed hopeless, pointless to even attempt to find joy in anything.

  She decided to humor Hamiad and joined him by the door. If only because thinking about him didn’t make her feel sick with dread. She focused on the question: What could’ve prompted Hamiad to come get her?

  They said nothing until they were back on the main road.

  Sarah gulped a breath. “So?”

  “I don’t know what the Anunnaki told you, but you can’t trust it.”

  They didn’t sound like Hamiad’s words. They sounded forced. She wondered if Ibdan had given him a stern talking to. It wasn’t likely that he approved of bringing in stray Anunnaki.

  “Would you like to hear what she said?”

  “In the morning.”

  “Well, I have to tell Samir.” The words came out with a struggle.

  “I’m just saying, I
wouldn’t put too much weight in whatever it told you.”

  “My stepdad didn’t trust the Anunnaki much either. He thought they were always plotting something to take over the world for good.”

  She figured comparing him to her stepdad would make Hamiad aware of how paranoid he sounded. Because who would want to be compared to Tobias?

  “That’s their goal.” It sounded so obvious coming from him, she realized he wasn’t speaking someone else’s mind. He was speaking his own. His own mind, she’d learned, could be a strange one.

  He’d made a fool of himself in class a few times, arguing with the teachers with this very same tone. Claiming that the Anunnaki were probably building bases in the Arctic and Antarctica despite the fact they didn’t like cold environments.

  Once they were discussing Anunnaki abductions. Hamiad brought up that they might’ve done it for sexual purposes. He’d said it with such a straight face, the teacher treated it as a serious claim, even though other students laughed. Their teacher spent the next few minutes explaining that human-Anunnaki sexual relations were as rare and taboo as human-animal relations. And still Sarah couldn’t tell if Hamiad was serious or trying to play a joke. Because when the teacher returned to lecturing about abductions, he started shading in his paper instead of taking notes. Like he refused to buy into any teachings that conflicted with his own. It was sad, almost deluded.

  “You think the Anunnaki we saved could be trying to trick us?” she said. The idea was ridiculous.

  “I don’t know, but they have elaborate plans sometimes. Just don’t believe everything it says, okay? There’s a reason they look like snakes.”

  Anunnaki did have serpentine features. Scaled skin, slightly slanted lips, slit nostrils. She could still hear New Bagramites growling that you could tell they were trouble just by looking at them.

  “I need to talk to Samir. I’ll meet you back in the infirmary soon, okay?” she said.