Silence the Living (Mute Book 2)

by Brian Bandell

  “Can it go airborne?” Nunez asked.

  If it could, he’d have surely been infected from being in the car with Moni. Aaron shook his head. “No way.”

  She crossed her toned arms while carefully reading his expression. “In any case, we need to know how to identify the infected. Drawing blood samples from the entire population, not to mention every animal, wouldn’t go over well.”

  “If you can talk, you’re okay.”

  “It’s that simple?”

  “The aliens eradicate the vocal cords in every host.”

  Among other changes.

  The silence hung between them. She wouldn’t take her eyes off him. Worried she might press him for information he shouldn’t know, Aaron came at her with a question. “Have you ever seen the virus at work inside a live host?”

  She nodded.

  “Where did the aliens latch on inside the body?”

  “Let me show you.”

  She led him across the laboratory, into a room surrounded by thick concrete walls, to a PET combo electron microscope. The instrument was so sensitive it sat on a section of floor separated from the rest of the building so not to disturb it with structural vibrations. She brought up an archived image of a rat’s spinal cord. There were flecks of purple all around, but especially around the spine and nerve endings.

  “The alien bacteria, illuminated in purple, clings to the nervous system. Occasionally some break away and interact with other parts of the body. This particular bacteria sample doesn’t include the alien nanotechnology because it was post invasion, so it doesn’t control the host.” She moved the view up to its brain, which had only a few stray purple dots. “They aren’t very interested in his brain. Now contrast that with this.” She closed the live-imaging feed and brought up a stored image, one taken the day of the invasion. This brain was awash in purple. “This was a live infected subject. Here they’ve commandeered both the brain and the nervous system. The rat’s normal brain activity barely registers. It functions only for motor reactions, not reasoning.”

  Aaron wondered how Moni’s brain would look under that machine. He imagined the purple horde spreading, conquering her one neuron at a time until finally they swung control in their favor.

  “Dr. Nunez, is there any way to reverse this? I mean to expel the infection from someone’s body?”

  “The problem is that the bacteria changes the host so much, completely reworking their digestive system and bloodstream. I don’t know if the host could survive without it.” She shot him a curious look. “Why do you ask? You know that’s not part of our mission, right?”

  “I know. But you’re a doctor. Curing patients is what you do.”

  “This project is to detect and prevent the spread of the alien virus, not to cure it.” She leaned in close to him and spoke softly as they headed back to her office. “And just between you and me, if the government finds someone infected, they’ll probably ship them up to the White Sands Missile grounds and incinerate them. That’s what I would do.”

  He couldn’t hide his flinch. He had been so isolated that he hadn’t heard many people talk about Moni, or anyone who might be infected. The purple baddies were about as popular as arsonists who start forest fires during dry season. If this mild mannered researcher wouldn’t mind seeing Moni burned, what would an armed neighborhood watch fanatic do if he recognized her? He couldn’t leave her in this condition. There had to be a way to kill the bacteria, making the alien nanotech helpless, without harming the host.

  “If the infection gets loose, you won’t be able to burn them one by one. It’ll be a swarm of mutants,” Aaron said. “We need to develop a compound that destroys the aliens without harming healthy creatures, or people. Even better, one that we can safely pour in water to cleanse the infection.”

  “That’s a great idea,” she said. “But it’s not part of our directive.”

  “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged his shoulders. Even if she hired him, there’s no way he could work on a major project like that behind her back. She already had eyes on him and he hadn’t so much as stolen a paper clip.

  “Listen.” Nunez leaned in close so no passerby of her office could hear. It took him a moment to break loose of the floral scent of her hair and process her words. “I signed up for this job to prevent tragedies. Believe me I’ve seen too many, but this could be the worst. My parents live in Mexico, just a few miles away in Juarez. The main source of water is the aquifer, and it flows south into Mexico. Cholera is the same way, contaminating a water supply and then following the water from city to city, from victim to victim.”

  “If the lagoon infection hadn’t suddenly ended, it would have swept across Florida in days. It moves rapidly in aquifers,” Aaron said.

  Her eyes widened in dread.

  “I’m not saying it’s out here but wherever it turns up we have to eliminate it from the environment first, and without poisoning the water,” he said.

  “I agree. I’ll apply for extra funds to develop a cleansing agent. I’ll be the primary researcher on this one, but you can be the assistant.”

  “So I’ve got the job?” he asked.

  She nodded with a grin.

  “Sweet!” He couldn’t resist a fist pump, but he did it below her desk.

  He finally landed a position more prestigious than flipping burgers. He wasn’t leading a vessel exploring the Great Barrier Reef yet, but it was a start. Anyway, this wasn’t about having fun. This was for Moni.

  Aaron just hoped that she held her own in the desert until he could turn her back into a regular woman.

  “Just one more thing before we get started,” Nunez asked. “How do you recommend we screen for infected animals?”

  “Once they start seizing animals, you shouldn’t get close enough to screen them. If you see a purple glow in their eyes, run like hell.”

  18

  When the sun edged above the desert horizon, Moni gawked at her wounded left arm and wondered why it had been smeared purple. Of course, her blood had dried.

  The alien nanotech inside her body had repaired the internal damage, leaving dark purple scabs covering the teeth marks of the coyote. She didn’t blame it for biting her. It had acted on instinct. She was the one defying the natural order, venturing onto its turf carrying hostile invaders. Even out here, she was a plague. Moni put on the light jacket to stop it from dripping infected blood on the critters teaming in the sand around her.

  Now she wasn’t the only delivery device. Moni had detected the mental signature of the alien nanotech inside the coyote she spat upon shortly before it disappeared. She couldn’t tell if it ran out of range or if it somehow evaded her detection. Perhaps the aliens had learned their lesson from the lagoon, where she easily persuaded them to abandon all hosts.

  After a breakfast of iron supplements chased by a swig of gasoline, she followed the coyote’s tracks down the mountain. They abruptly stopped. There were depressions in the sand like the beast had thrashed around. Moni spotted a purple stain on a stone beside a few mangy hairs. The tracks led alongside a boulder and vanished.

  She closed her eyes and sniffed. Recalling the rotten stench of the coyotes, Moni let the dry air filter through her nostrils. The scent pointed her north. The interstate was that direction. How fast could a mutant coyote travel, she wondered.

  Moni headed north, passing between black-topped mountains that were once a ferocious volcanic field. Their exposed magma hearts were as dried and dead as the land. The sun blazed, washing the eastern sky in intense light. The heat radiated from the ground like a hot skillet. A gila monster sat on a rock, letting its black and yellow scales soak in the sun. After a minute, it scurried back into its shadowy burrow, leaving Moni alone in the furnace.

  She felt guilty that she needed the aliens’ tracking abilities for following the scent of the coyote. The aliens had learned this skill from the aquatic predators on their world, which had longer hunting ranges than anything on Earth. By le
tting them change her sense of smell, Moni wondered whether she would experience human pleasures, the aroma of fresh coffee and croissants, the same way.

  “You think that the more I become like you, the less I’ll care about humans? Not happening.”

  “If you didn’t want to depend on us to save your ass, you never would have wandered into the desert. You wouldn’t last an hour out here without us.”

  That sounded like something her ex-boyfriend Darren had said. When her father came round the house demanding money, Darren would flash the gun in his waistband and scare him off. Then he’d tell her, “I’m the only man you belong to.”

  At least she’d never see him again, or her father. She’d much rather face the infected coyote and Lord-knows-what powers the aliens had given it. Hopefully, it hadn’t found more hosts, especially, a human with the brain power that they could utilize to enhance their control of multiple hosts.

  Halting her march and standing quietly, Moni abruptly detected an intelligent mental signature. The presence of a man stalked her in the desert. He lurked on the other side of a ridge lined with stones and shrubs. She couldn’t hear him, but the chatter of his mental signature reached her like the only radio station on an otherwise silent dial.

  “These tracks are fresh. Sneakers, not hiking boots. This one ain’t sharp.”

  She could smell him, a mix of sweat and minty body wash. Moni shuffled around the ridge, backing away from his steady pursuit. If he had a gun, she couldn’t defend herself, at least not from so far away. She could sneak up close, or sprint off before he even set eyes on her. She listened for his thoughts.

  Might be a migrant who got stranded by smugglers, or who didn’t realize the Potrillo Mountains aren’t the most hospitable foot path to the United States,” the man thought. “Could be an underprepared hiker who got lost. If I don’t find this fellow alive today, I could have a corpse on my hands tomorrow.

  Figuring him for some kind of patrolman, Moni doubted he would shoot her, but he might do something far worse, bring a search party into the desert for a supposedly lost person. She couldn’t run. Only revealing her face to him and convincing him to walk away would get her out of this. But if he recognized her from the news, things could get messy.

  Moni hid her gas canister behind a bushy shrub and had a seat on a rock. Unwrapping an energy bar, she slouched her elbows across her knees like a recuperating explorer. Within a minute, he rounded the ridge and spotted her. The man, wearing the tan shirt and silver badge of a state park ranger, didn’t hurry his pace. Tall and broad shouldered and with a well-trimmed beard, he trod through the rough terrain like a horse on its home paddock. He didn’t reach for the rifle strapped across his back. Instead, he removed his sunglasses as he approached, revealing eyes of light gray, like moons caught by just a hint of sunlight. The cowboy hat topped a long black ponytail of fine hair waving out the back. It resembled Native American hair. He had high cheekbones and a bronze finish to his desert-worn skin, but didn’t look quite dark enough for a full blood.

  Moni stood and gazed straight into his face. The sight of him made her heart slow and her stomach flutter. Thank God, she still had some human left in her. Knowing what would happen if she touched a man, Moni wouldn’t let herself go there. She listened to his mind, seeing if the sight of her set off an alarm bell.

  She looks pretty good for someone who’s been wandering around in this hell hole.

  He cracked a smile with his broad chin. She waited for him to call her something condescending like sweetheart.

  “Good morning, or as good as it can be in the devil’s armpit,” the ranger said. “Are you lost? We don’t get many hikers alone, especially this far from the road.”

  She nearly followed her natural reaction and opened her mouth. Instead, she drew a notepad from her bag and scribbled out a message:

  My name is Maggie. I was a police officer in Alabama. Got injured breaking up an assault. Voice box busted.

  Taking a hike before I figure out my next move.

  She showed it to him, hoping he wouldn’t ask for an ID with that name. She still had her badge in the bag, even though she didn’t deserve it, but it listed the wrong state.

  “Huh.” He raised his eyebrows. “Quite the story you’ve got there Maggie. I’m Blake Natonaba. As you can guess by the uniform, I’m a state park ranger.”

  She pointed to the silver-encased blue stone dangling from his neck and resting on his muscular chest.

  “Oh, that’s not an official part of the uniform. That’s Navajo jewelry.” As he directed her attention toward his necklace with one hand, he ran his eyes down her hips. “See, I’m one-fourth Navajo, although I carry the full last name from my grandfather’s side. It means warrior leader. My ancestors were said to be fierce hunters back in their day. They’d make me look like a barista.”

  He sure didn’t resemble a barista to her. He looked like he could snatch a rattlesnake out of its den and crush it under his boot. Yet when he set eyes on her, Blake offered a welcoming grin like he’d known her for years.

  Moni flashed a shy smile as the silence hung between them. She wished she could say something smart and witty, or maybe ask him a personal question. She’d also grown up split between two races, black and white, and wondered whether the Navajos were more accepting of mixed bloodlines. The less she told him about her past, the better. Besides, bi-racial is nothing compared to bi-species.

  “I hope you brought enough water with you. The number one danger out here is dehydration.”

  Gasoline, yes. Water, no. Perhaps that wasn’t so clever.

  She wrote on her pad: I could use an extra bottle if you can spare one.

  “No trouble at all.”

  He reached into his bag and tossed her a bottle of spring water. She held it at her side, wondering why he gazed at her so curiously. Then she remembered she should be thirsty. Moni took a few sips.

  “That’s right, save some for later. Hey, how long you been out here anyway?”

  She wrote: Overnight.

  “You know you need a permit to camp here. Where’s your tent?”

  She shook her head.

  “You slept out here without a tent?” Blake’s head nodded forward in amazement as he thought that he’d never done that. “It gets cold in the desert after dark, but I’m sure you discovered that. All the snakes and scorpions that hide underground during the day come out at night. Coyotes too. You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

  I’m not that lucky. She pulled her sleeve down over the bite marks on her arm.

  She wrote out a note: Want to watch coyotes. Where are they during the day?

  “In the early morning and late afternoon they might be out hunting. In the hottest part of the day they tend to find shade and curl up for a nap. Honestly though, if you wanna see a coyote, it’s a lot safer in the zoo. They don’t usually attack people, but if you approach them when they’re feeding, they could feel threatened and defend their meal, know what I mean?”

  Why then did that pack of coyotes attack me last night? Are the invaders inside me sending mental messages that I’m not aware of?

  She nodded and gave a confident thumbs up.

  “So you don’t have a gun?”

  She shook her head.

  “How about a satellite phone?”

  Again, she shook her head, but not a bad idea.

  So much for giving her my number, Blake thought.

  Moni couldn’t resist smiling.

  She thinks it’s funny that she has no phone or weapon. This doesn’t faze her one bit.

  “You’re one tough chick, I gotta say. I haven’t seen anybody tackle the badlands commando like this.”

  He could have ticketed her for unpermitted camping, or scooped her little body up and dragged her out of harm’s way. He did neither. Her father had belittled her career as a juvenile protection cop. Darren had thought she couldn’t stand up for herself. Even Aaron only let her out of his sight because following her woul
d have killed him. In one minute, this man had made up his mind about her. If she had met Blake a month ago, she would have given him a flirty peck on the cheek and strutted away, letting him anticipate their next meeting. Better not try that now. It would melt his face off.

  She put pen to paper: I appreciate the endorsement of a fine ranger. If I had a phone, I’d do a #HotModernCowboy.

  “Yeah, this is a Twitter free zone,” he said with a chuckle. “I can go months between checking the internet. But I’ll take any compliment I can get, and I’ll pretend it’s not because you’ve been in the sun too long.” She overheard him thinking that he wished he had met her in a bar and not on the side of a dead volcano. “As well as you’ve been doing out here, I hope you have yourself an exit plan. Without a lot of water, shelter, a gun and a way to call for help, chances of long-term survival aren’t good. We occasionally get smugglers and, while a coyote looks at you like competition for its meal, they see a sack of ransom money.”

  So naïve. Why hadn’t she weighed these risks before she’d set out on foot? What would she do when the gasoline and iron supplements ran out? Could she battle coyotes every sleepless night? What if the next person who found her all alone wasn’t so concerned for her well being?

  “You’re weak, fragile,” they told her. “Without us, you wouldn’t last an hour out here. We’d be more than happy to enter the bloodstream of the scavengers that pick your bones clean.”

  Moni shook the alien thoughts out of her head. The more she adapted, the more she became one of them.

  “If by chance you’re ready to head home now, I can give you a ride,” Ranger Blake said, as if he was the mind reader. “My truck’s about two miles away. Should be cake after all the distance you’ve come.”

  She fantasized about the ice-cold AC in his truck blasting the sweat off her skin. She could close her weary eyes, lean her body against the cozy seat, and listen to the ranger tell her more about his life roaming the desert.