H.A.L.F.: ORIGINS

by Natalie Wright

  “Simple. Europe is closer.”

  Jack sighed loudly. His head pounded from lack of sleep. “Just think about it for a minute. Whoever did this had tech that not only wiped the entire European power grid but also disrupted satellites. You think any country in the Middle East has that kind of capability?”

  Thomas stared at the television screen, but his eyes weren’t focused. He looked as though he was doing complex math in his head. He turned down the talking heads on the TV and asked, “Do you have more evidence to support your theory?”

  Jack shrugged. “Not sure I’ve got any evidence. It’s more a hunch. Don’t you think it’s an awfully big coincidence that the Greys recently shot Apthartos to hell and now the Middle East has allegedly not only put thousands of years of grievances behind them but miraculously developed the technology to pull this attack off? No, I’m saying it’s an alien attack and the government’s keeping it from the public. They’re using the Middle East terrorist story as a cover because it’s an easy lie that people are more than willing to believe.” The memory of men cut in half and disemboweled, strewn across the red brick of Apthartos, made Jack shudder. He could almost smell the blood and urine and gunpowder from rounds the humans had fired to no avail. Those same aliens had taken Erika and Ian away. Bile rose in his throat as his worry for them was renewed.

  Thomas considered what Jack had said for a few minutes then asked, “Why would the government cover up an alien attack?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Come on, Thomas. Why have they hidden the truth about aliens since the 1940s? Build an entire underground city and create human-alien hybrids and keep all that secret? You really think, after all the lies and deceit, that they’re going to just admit that aliens took out the power grid of Europe and, oh yeah, they’re probably on their way over here to do the same?”

  Thomas steepled his fingers under his chin and rested his elbows on his knees. “You actually make a lot of sense. We need to be wary and stay alert. The war is starting, and Croft is likely more motivated than ever to get Alecto back into his slimy hands.”

  “We should tell Anna.” Jack was already a few steps toward the door when Thomas stopped him.

  “No.” He put his body between Jack and the door.

  “But—”

  Thomas held up a hand. “She’s exhausted. We all are, and we’re going to need our rest. Let her sleep tonight, Jack. Tomorrow, we’ll let her know that the alien war has begun.”

  4

  TEX

  Prickly branches of dry desert scrub scraped Tex’s legs as he tried to evade the copter chasing them. The time he had spent in deep meditation, both at the makeshift hospital and in the truck, had served him well. His senses were nearly as acute as they had ever been. He could also maintain a shield of repellant energy, for a time anyway. Bullets from the copter had zinged and ricocheted as he jumped the motorcycle out of the truck, but they hadn’t been hit.

  He had not been sure of his ability to protect them though he had kept his doubts to himself. Other powers remained untested, but at least he knew he still had the ability to create a protective shield, despite the rain and the missing pieces of himself that the Conexus had taken from him.

  Erika’s body warmed his back. Her arms, wrapped around his waist, were distracting him more than he cared to admit. Her touch aroused in him confusing emotions and memories. I know her, do I not? The memories of his time with the Conexus and even the false memories implanted into his mind by the Regina were more vivid than the hazy memories of his time before the Conexus.

  Erika’s warmth was real, though. She was with him right then, her body heat seeping into him, her scent clinging to his nostrils. His head swam with dizziness. His mental resources, already compromised, were being spread thin by the need to maintain the shield while at the same time navigating his way through the desert. He tried to stop thinking about the maddening sensation of Erika’s body against his own, the scent of her driving him to a nearly crazed state.

  He tore through the desert scrub and whizzed past cactus and mesquite trees. The fabric of his pants was likely shredded at the ankles, torn to bits by the sharp thorns and prickly branches of the desert plants that grew more thickly than he had imagined.

  Tex came upon a two-lane paved road. He crossed it and continued into the desert on the other side. Knowing Erika had been driving them northeast toward New Mexico, he continued in the same direction.

  “Wait. Why didn’t you take that road?” Erika asked. “It’d be faster and save what little flesh I have left on my legs.”

  “We need to stay off of the road. We are too exposed on this open-air vehicle.”

  Erika had to yell to be heard over the high-pitched whine of the bike. “What we need is another car.”

  She was correct, and they had only one way to procure a new vehicle.

  “At the next road, we will abandon the motorcycle and obtain new transportation.”

  Tex assumed Erika would argue with him, but she remained quiet. Her arms were locked tightly around his waist as if he was a life raft that she clung to on a stormy sea.

  He had put at least two kilometers between themselves and the crashed truck. Tex thought he had lost them, but his sensitive ears picked up the sound of helicopter blades. Croft’s men must have determined that there are no bodies in the burning truck. He threw a glance over his shoulder. The searchlights roamed the desert floor but appeared to be searching to the west of where they were. As long as they do not have canines, we stand a chance.

  After being chased by dogs at the school during their escape, Tex had taken a dislike to the beasts. When dealing with humans, Tex’s ability to sense the environment more keenly than them was an advantage. Before a human could form the intention to pull a weapon on him, Tex had already smelled their surge of adrenaline.

  Dogs were as tapped into their surroundings as Tex was, though. He had no sensory advantage over canines. But they cannot manipulate matter as I can. The thought gave him a small measure of comfort.

  Tex brought his sensory attention back fully to the world around him. He detected exhaust fumes in a far greater quantity than he had smelled at the two-lane road he had recently passed over.

  “I believe we are close to the highway that you mentioned previously,” he said as the barest hint of light peeked over the eastern horizon. The night had been their ally. “We must get a car before the sun rises.”

  “Agreed. But it’s not like we’ll just walk up to a parking lot and find a car with keys in the ignition, waiting for us to take it.”

  Tex chose to ignore her barbed tongue. She was unlikely to agree with his idea of how to get what they needed. He did not have the energy to fight with her about every detail of their forward progress.

  A new sound caught Tex’s attention, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Dogs yipped and barked.

  “Great. Dogs. They must have our scent,” Erika said.

  The yips grew louder. The dogs were quickly erasing the distance he had put between life and a bullet.

  The smell of diesel overwhelmed his sensitive nose. In the daylight, they would be too exposed on a motorcycle, and Tex wanted to ditch the cycle in the scrub, where it would be more difficult to find than on the road. “We must abandon the motorcycle now. The freeway is just ahead.”

  Tex skidded to a stop, dismounted, and was nearly ten yards away from Erika in just a few seconds.

  “Wait for me,” she called.

  “Hurry.” His legs were wobbly, but he quickly scrambled up the embankment and easily jumped the guardrail. That was no more of a challenge for him than it would be for a deer. He stopped and looked back for Erika.

  She stumbled and kicked up a puff of dust. He was ready to run back to her, but she got up and scrambled up the embankment to the road.

  Behind her, the call of the dogs was louder still, and the copter’s searchlights swept the desert floor less than a kilometer away from them. They will catch up to us
before I have the opportunity to procure a vehicle. Running was not much of an effort, and it raised his heart rate but little, but the sound of the dogs made his heart gallop in his chest, the flutter of it causing a loud rush of blood in his ears.

  Tex had never attempted to use his telepathic weapon on a dog. He recalled his first time in the desert. He had killed a snake simply because he could. The memory still brought heat to his cheeks. In his mind, he heard Dr. Randall’s reproachful lecture for killing an innocent creature.

  “But they will find us.” He said the words aloud even though Dr. Randall was not there to hear them.

  Erika hoisted her legs over the guardrail and stood looking at him, her chest heaving and her hands on her hips. “You don’t have to kill them.” She panted hard. “In Apthartos, you made that soldier unconscious rather than dead. Remember?”

  Hazy images of Erika in trouble, pleading with Tex to spare her attacker, filled his mind. Since that time, though, she had killed Conexus and human too. Tex did not understand why she seemed to apply one standard to him and another to herself.

  Tex reached out with his mind. Three dogs and six men were on the ground, closing in on them.

  “While you take care of the posse hunting us, I’ll get us a ride.” She took a few steps toward the road but stopped beside him. Erika put her hand lightly on his shoulder. “You don’t have to kill them. Just knock them out.” She let go and stood at the edge of the pavement, her arm out and her thumb up.

  He remained fixed on establishing a telepathic link with the dogs. He had been able to use his powers since leaving the school, but he was not at the strength he had been that night in the desert when he first met Erika—and nearly killed half a dozen soldiers. I am no longer whole. I may never have those abilities again.

  During his years held against his will at A.H.D.N.A., he had longed to be more human. Tex had resented his abilities as they were the reason he was not free. Now, though, the idea of not having them both saddened and frightened him. He had taken his power for granted, and it certainly had come in handy to save his life—and Erika’s—on several occasions. How can I protect her if I cannot even protect myself?

  A semi passed them on the road behind him, and the strong gust of wind coming off the truck nearly knocked him over. Tex was having trouble closing the windpipes of all the dogs at once, at such a significant distance. He funneled his focus instead to the one that he sensed was the closest, and it finally fell away, unconscious but alive.

  Erika yelled a curse at a car that slowed down but sped back up and left them still at the side of the road.

  Another dog went down. A string of cars threw up a breeze at his back, and his skin prickled. Tex pulled his focus back to the men still advancing despite the fact that the dogs were down. They were less than a quarter of a mile away.

  “I must look like a pile of horse crap,” Erika said.

  As much as Tex was concentrating, the statement was so odd that it pulled his attention back to her. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I can’t even get a trucker to stop for me.”

  “You look good to me.”

  The words had tumbled out of his mouth. His cheeks were aflame but his back was to her, so she likely had not seen how clearly flummoxed he was by such a bold admission of his feelings. She said nothing in response.

  He was perhaps as surprised as she was by his statement. His mind had been a jumble ever since Dr. Randall unhooked him from his interface with the Conexus. He still recalled holding Xenos in his arms, kissing her. The implanted memory was as fresh and real as any memory in his mind. He recalled loving Xenos as fully as if he had spent his entire life with her. The fact that it was a virtual memory, gifted to him by the Regina, did not matter. In his mind, he had loved her, and Xenos had loved him back.

  He meant what he’d said, though. He enjoyed looking at Erika—even when her golden-brown eyes were rimmed with red, puffy, and circled by darkness. Even when her clothes were tattered and dirty, her black hair a ratty, greasy mess, Erika was beautiful to him, and he suspected nothing she could do would ever change that.

  Tex shook his head slightly. Nothing rattled his concentration more than musing about her. Five men still remained. As he redoubled his efforts, soon only four were left standing.

  “Come on. We’ve got someone stopping.” Erika waved at a car pulling onto the shoulder, its headlights catching them in a bright beam of light.

  The car was a late-model sedan. It likely did not have the power Tex would have liked, but it appeared to be in much better shape than the old truck.

  The driver was a middle-aged man with gray hair and glasses. The man reminded Tex of Dr. Randall, and a hollow feeling took up residence in the pit of Tex’s stomach. Guilt for what I may have to do to this fellow.

  As they approached the car, Erika said, “You should get in the back. And keep your hat on and your eyes averted. Maybe in the dark, he won’t notice.”

  The men pursuing them were closer. Tex reached out with all his strength and simultaneously sent a piercing knife of pain through the heads of their pursuers. Though Tex couldn’t see them, he imagined they were on their knees from the agony.

  He had to drop his mental connection to the men to get into the car, but they would need a few seconds to recover. That was the best he could do. Tex did as Erika asked and eased himself onto the cloth seat in the back. He had to shove a stack of magazines and newspapers out of the way to make room.

  The man’s voice was gravelly. “What ’r you two doin’ out here so late? You’re not runaways, are you?” Though they were both strapped in, the man did not make any moves to get the car back onto the highway.

  The man looked into the rearview mirror as he spoke. Tex turned to look out the window so the man would not get the full view of Tex’s eyes.

  The driver stared into the rearview mirror. “What the—”

  “We need to go northeast,” Erika said. “How far can you take us?”

  Though the humans likely could not hear them yet, Tex knew choppers were close. Soon, they would be near enough to identify the car.

  “They are almost here.” Tex’s voice was low but urgent. “You must drive. Now.”

  In the time Tex took to give the command, the helicopters had gotten close enough that even the humans heard them. The driver looked up through the top of his windshield, searching for the source of the sound.

  He rounded on Erika. “Get outta my car. I figured you were two young people maybe broken down or something, but I’m not about to help two fugitives. Best you turn yourselves in. Turns out badly for people who run.” The man reached toward the ignition to turn off the car.

  Before his hand reached the key, the car accelerated wildly and pulled back onto the highway. The sudden thrust forward whipped Erika and the driver, and they slammed back into their seats. Tex had already used a lot of his stored energy to prevent the dogs and men from reaching them. The effort of manipulating the car’s gas pedal made his head throb. He ignored the pain and kept his mind focused on making the car go as fast as it was capable of.

  The man again said, “What the—” and stomped on the brake, but it did nothing to slow the car. “What’s goin’ on here?” The man’s eyes searched the rearview mirror, frantic to find answers.

  One of the first lessons Commander Sturgis had taught him was that fear was a powerful tool to obtain obedience. Sturgis had used it on Tex with great effect. He despised Sturgis’s teachings. He had vowed that if he were ever free of her, he would shun her lessons. When in danger, though, he found himself resorting to her playbook.

  Tex turned his head so that the man saw him clearly. Tex removed the knit cap that had covered his slightly pointy ears and large head, covered in silky, silver-blond hair falling in soft waves to his shoulders. With the first pink-tinged light of dawn spilling into the car, Tex’s features were clearly visible to the man. His eyes were much too large and dark to be normal, to be human.

&n
bsp; The man’s mouth flew open and moved as though he was trying to get words out but couldn’t quite formulate the question he longed to ask. He mumbled a prayer while he made the sign of the cross on his chest with his right hand while he kept his left hand on the wheel. He was apparently unwilling to concede that Tex had control over his car now, not him. Finally, he got his mouth to work. “Who… What are you?

  Tex did not answer the question, and Erika remained silent. She stared straight ahead and though she appeared calm on the outside, Tex heard her heart thrumming wildly in her chest.

  “Do as I say, and you will live,” Tex said.

  5

  WILLIAM CROFT

  The flight attendant woke Croft when his jet was somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.

  His eyes were bleary. “Have we arrived? You know I require to be awoken no more than one hour prior to arrival.” His voice showed his impatience at the flight attendant’s incompetence.

  The flight attendant, Frank, quickly corrected him. “No, sir, we have not arrived. There is urgent news that we believe you should be briefed on before landing.”

  Croft wiped sleep from his eyes and shifted himself to sit more upright. Frank had jettisoned his jacket and wore only a black vest and white shirt. Frank wiped his clean-shaven neck and slight chin with a handkerchief that he quickly stowed in a pants pocket.

  Croft motioned for Frank to sit in the seat across from and facing him so that he did not have to crane his neck to look up while they spoke. As Frank sat, the odor of gin wafted off of him, his nose and cheeks red from drink. Frank had worked on William Croft’s private plane for nearly twenty years. Croft had never seen him drink before.

  Frank’s eyes were wide and his brows crinkled. He fidgeted his hands in his lap as he advised William of the massive EMP and ensuing power outage throughout Europe. William did not interrupt or show the slightest emotion as Frank detailed the news of horrendous terrorist attacks in both London and Paris with great concern and emotion. The man’s eyes watered. He nearly cried more than once during his recitation of the events that had befallen Europe while they flew to America.