“Annika, Look Out!” Nate shouts.
I look down the center aisle and see Xander standing before me with a short knife in his left hand. Knife… left hand… snow all around us… she stares at me with those cold grey-green eyes.
NOO!” I shout, and from my hand I shoot an incredible burst of white and gold, nuclear power at him. The power surges through him; his body spasms for a short second; and then the powers dies, leaving a burnt, irreversibly-damaged crater hollowing his chest.
From behind him, more dark figures burst through the church doors: Eva, Bruce, Dean, and a multitude of others in steel-toed shoes. At first, they gaze around the room and marvel at the scene, but all eyes eventually fixate on a single person in the room, and they freeze. Xander falls to his knees then face-plants onto the floor of the church. Dead.
I let go of my breath and stare at the body. I killed him. I… and it was so easy. So… automatic. Like a machine, something manmade and inhuman. That’s what I am.
“Kill Her!” Bruce shouts.
The army of dark figures behind him molds into a deadly firing squad, all guns aiming at me. I hear a loud, resounding range of gunfire, and I subconsciously feel each bullet pounding me. But at the same time, there’s an enormous wind that blows by my right side, and the wind swings every bullet to the top of the wall behind me. My eyes trace the curved path of the bullets when a hand grabs my arm and pulls me behind the wooden table. Nate and I sink down with our backs against the table as the hunting crew unloads at us. Shards of wood fly by us. This is the end… This is it… We are going to die. I close my eyes and concentrate on the force field of wind protecting us. I feel a soft, warm hand trace down my forearm and lock its fingers between mine. Nate… I squeeze his hand in mine, and hold on for as long as I can.
The shooting stops, and a clamor of metal-against-metal erupts, then several objects fly out the window. Another window shatters, and something―no, someone―lands in the church. A roaring of flames is paired with a ZING! ZING! of sparky power. No more gun shots. The dark figures start growling and shouting. Nate moves next to me, and pulls me up with the hand that’s holding mine.
“Look,” he says.
I open my eyes.
There’s Elijah and Zoë surrounded by a fog of smoke and flames. Marissa, too: she and… Kono and Nickel are here, fighting. Kono lifts her right arm, and the whole front bench of the church levitates. She swings her arm, and the bench throws itself at the hunting crew, Eva among the people it hits.
“They must have known Izzi and―Umphf!” Nate says, then his head slams into what’s left of the wooden table.
What the hell? Why would he—Izzi. I grab a heavy metal candlestick and start swinging. I swing close to Nate’s back and connect with something. Izzi grunts. Nate reacts to the noise and grabs an invisible body, and pushes it against the table. I hear the thud when Izzi hits the table, and an image of her flickers momentarily. I throw the heavy candlestick down like an axe where Izzi was, but I hit the ground.
“Where’d She Go?!” Nate shouts.
We look around the room and see Lazzer leap through the shattered window, but we see no signs of Izzi. Then, she’s standing right over Warnock’s body, not hiding with her invisibility, staring and smiling at me. In her hand is the red-dotted quarter.
“No!” I shout, but Izzi as well as the tangible dirt vanishes.
I have nothing. I have lost everything.
“Anni―” Nate tries to warn me.
I turn and see a colossal man with beefy arms and an enormous chest towering over me and Nate. He bats Nate away with his hand, and Nate tumbles over the table and off the altar. The giant, no doubt one of Dr. Nancy’s experiments, grabs me by the collar of my shirt then launches me at an unbroken window. I fly through the air, hit the side of the window with my shoulder, shatter the glass, and continue falling outside the church.
I land on a tarp-covered bush, snapping branches and twigs from under me, and roll into the mud. I pull myself to my feet, my legs and hands shaking furiously. I look back at the window where voices shout and benches burst into flames. The Metanites, they are still in there and need help.
Not your help, a voice echoes in my head. You can’t help them anymore. Murderer.
I back away from the window. They’re right. Everyone was right. I don’t belong with these people, and they won’t want me here.
Murderer. Murderer!
The giant with steel-toed shoes climbs out of the window with his yellow eyes locked on me. I backpedal, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest, and then I turn and start running toward the street. Once I hit the pavement, I spin around to fight the giant, but he’s only a foot away from me. I swat my arms at him, but he’s un-phased. He wraps his massive hands around my throat and lifts me off the ground. Air is unattainable. I try to scream, but the massive hands crush my throat.
Someone strikes the giant in the back, and he drops me with a scream of agony. I collapse on the ground, choking. From my hazy vision, I see a teenaged boy fighting the giant. I think it’s Nate, or Lazzer…
“Stay away from her!” the teenager yells.
That’s not Nate’s voice. That’s not Lazzer’s voice either. I rub my eyes and force myself back on my feet. I glance up again and see Jericho throwing the giant into an oncoming truck. The truck smashes into the giant as another, more slender figure hits Jericho. It’s Zoë; her glowing green hands give her away. Jericho rises to his feet, and he and Zoë start swinging at each other.
“Annika!” someone else shouts.
Nate comes from my right, grabs me by my shoulders, and leans his head toward mine. “Run! You have to run!”
“But I―”
“You cannot let them get you! You can’t!” He says, but it’s his eyes that force the words into me.
We hear Zoë cringe and yelp from behind Nate. He turns to check on her and then returns to me once more.
“Run, Annika. Go!”
I listen to him, because running is the only thing I know how to do anymore― it’s the only thing I have left. I’m two hundred meters away from the church and can still hear the battle unfolding. Someone screams, and my heart tears further because… because I do have something left.
My friends are back there. They’ve given me more to keep fighting for than I deserve. I owe them, and although I lost the quarter, I can still help them.
You can’t let them get you… Run…
No. My time for running is over. The files are gone, but one thing still remains. I can still take down Dr. Nancy and clear the name of the Metanites. I am more proof than a file full of documents. My testimony―not even―my body and my very own existence is enough to convince anyone that what Dr. Nancy does must be stopped.
I will turn myself in.
Because I am the tangible dirt.
XXVII: You Are Not a Monster
Thursday, April 3, 2065; 10:58 p.m.
First person
I don’t know what’s compelling me to keep walking forward. I guess there’s nothing compelling me to stop and turn around, or maybe I think I will be helping by doing this. Yes, I am the tangible dirt. I have been all along, but I haven’t realized it until now. I could help by turning myself in, but to be completely honest, I want nothing but the end, now. I just want this to be over, to stop running and fighting, because… because the more I run and fight the more people get hurt, and the more… the more I hate myself for it.
I stop and stand behind the trees along the edge of the forest looking out at the illuminated police station. Just half a mile from the church, I saw the fire truck zoom by me, heading south on Route 306 toward the burning building. The rain is coming down on me like a meteor shower, and I can’t tell if it wants me to go back to the burning church to my certain death or forward to my certain… I don’t even know. What would they do with me? Throw me in prison, right away, then transport me to a secure facility and hold me there for questioning; or maybe they would shoot me on the
spot, since I shouldn’t even be alive, by their standards. Either way, it’s better than where I am now, and I can be held accountable for my sins. And dead or alive, they’d have enough to convict Dr. Nancy for the sins he committed.
Just go, I tell myself. Go in and give yourself up. This is better, for everyone.
Behind me is a burning church, a dead priest―the last person who ever believed that I could be good―and a dead body. Behind me are the Metanites. Behind me are years of pain and running. I take a step forward out of the shadows of the trees, but then I recoil and hide again. What if this is all for nothing, and they dispose of my body without tracing anything back to Dr. Nancy? And the Metanites… what would happen to them afterward? What would they think of me after I’m gone? Forget it.
I move completely out of the shadows and take three large steps toward the police station, but then I hear a voice.
“Basia?”
It’s sweet like honey and frail like a sandcastle.
“Where are you going?”
I turn around and see her standing a step within the forest. Cassie. The wind blows her curly blonde hair in front of her big blue eyes that do nothing but stare at me. Those eyes… once full of life, but now they’re empty and broken. Her eyes share less than a shred of emotion, but they beg for something… for what?”
“Cassie,” I say.
Why is she here? Why now, when I’m about to atone for all the lives I’ve ruined, including hers?
“What do you want from me?!” I shout at her. “Did I let you all down, and now you’re here for payback? Tell me, Cassie, what did you expect me to do? What more could I possibly give?!”
She doesn’t move. Why?!! Has she come back to haunt me once last time? She looks me over with those big, impassive eyes. My face still has ashes, mud, and blood smudged on it despite the downpour of rain. The wind burns my skin raw and red as if I am still in that church and burning down with it. I must be such a disappointment to her, a failure of a sister or savior. At least now she sees me for what I truly am.
I fall to my knees, and the tears fall from my eyes at last, like water spilling over a dam.
“I am a monster,” I say to her. “I tried, but I bring death and disaster everywhere I go. I’m not the hero you wanted me to be… I’m sorry.”
I bury my face in my hands and cry. The wind howls around me and bites my skin. My whole body shakes and weeps; I can hardly breathe between the tears and the sobs.
Then I feel a soft, warm hand on my hair. As soft as the wind, but too warm. The touch warms me from the outside in, and my body shakes just a little less.
“You are not a monster,” Cassie says, standing right in front of me. “You are my sister and my hero.”
I look up and reach to give her a hug, but she disappears with the wind. No—Cassie!
“Come back!” I shout.
But then I feel a warmth deep within my chest, and a new voice in my head says:
I am here.
“What do I do?” I ask.
Keep fighting.
I run back toward the church along the main road. I stay close to the forest edge to dodge the lights of any on-coming traffic, but the road is empty. The fight is long over, but I have to get back to them. I have to get back to the Metanites and keep fighting. The wind blows against me, so I keep my eyes down. When I glance up, I see a dark figure running toward me.
“Annika!” the figure shouts.
“Nate!” I yell back.
“What are you doing? Are you completely mad?!” he shouts as we come closer and closer.
I fall into him, and he wraps his arms around me while I sob and sob again. We’re both shaking and freezing, but it feels better to have someone to stand through the cold with you. His skin is soaking wet and shivering, but his hug is warm, and that is enough at this moment.
And at this moment, I believe.
“How sweet,” a voice sneers from within the woods.
Nate and I turn to see Eva emerge from behind a tree just twenty feet from us. Twigs snap as seven others step out from behind trees all around us; three police officers from the illuminated station walk toward us with heavy clicking boots and blue-light flashlights.
Nate jumps into the air, holding me against him. We are a body length off the ground when someone grabs my leg and pulls me down to the ground.
“Annika!” Nate yells, and soon someone else catches his ankle.
I wrestle my way away from one of them, but soon the traitorous policemen are upon me, and they electrocute me with their hand-held tasers. I let out a piercing scream, but someone covers my mouth with their grimy hand.
“Quietly, now!” Eva barks.
The electrocuting pain ceases, and the policemen bind my hands behind my back. A handgun clicks behind my ear, and I feel the tip of the gun against my head. I look up and see Nate struggling against five men handcuffing his wrists behind his back and his ankles with small, seemingly substantial weights.
“No!” I shout, but Eva clamps her hand over my mouth and nose and holds her dagger to my throat.
“I’ll shut you up!” she growls.
“Eva, don’t,” a low voice commands from behind her.
I make out the top of Bruce’s head, coated with a layer of black smudge. I choke for air behind Eva’s hand but get no release. I feel the sharp, wet blade against the skin of my neck.
“Why? We’re going to kill her, anyway,” Eva says.
“Not with a knife!” Nate says.
Everyone turns and stares at him; his face held against the muddy, green-black ground, and a shimmering blade against the back of his neck.
“A knife they can trace back to the style and customer, and since that one looks to be special-made, they can trace it back to you and Dr. Nancy,” Nate says.
What are you doing? Are you trying to help them?
Eva glares back at me then snaps her dagger back into her pocket. She pulls out a metal chain and goes for my neck.
“Strangulation leaves marks, too. Pharisaic scientists can discern the force and weight of the killer by the chain’s impression and how the arteries fail,” Nate says.
Eva scowls at me, and puts the chain away.
“Give me the radiation,” Eva says to Bruce, holding her hand up but keeping her eyes glued on me.
“Won’t matter,” Nate says. “Your fingerprints are already on her.”
Eva lets her hand fall to the ground, and she huffs loudly. No one makes a sound. Only the trembling, choking breathing coming from Nate and me. Bruce stomps over to Nate, grabs a handful of his hair, and yanks him to his knees.
“You…you’re the Reilly boy,” Bruce says. Nate cringes as Bruce pulls on his hair. “The Metanites’ leader.”
“Moton is our leader,” Nate says.
Bruce releases Nate’s hair, and Nate falls forward with his head hanging over his knees. Bruce turns to me, and the gun against my head pushes against my scalp.
“You’re lucky your friend is intelligent,” Bruce says to me. “But he’s only prolonging this. Eva, stuff them in the van.”
The hunting crew pulls me and Nate off the mud and drags us over to the side of the road. Two large SUVs pull up, and the men throw us into the back vault of one of the vehicles. The back door slams shut, and everything is pitch black. We lay still and silent until the vehicle starts up and speeds down the road.
I hear Nate coughing close to me. Although my body aches and my head feels the weight of a bowling ball, I try to make my way toward him. He tries to stand up, then the van hits a pothole, and he falls back down. I scoot closer until I feel a grimy shoe against my shoulder.
“Nate?” I call.
“Annika― yeah, I’m here,” he says, and he moves toward me.
“I’m so sorry,” I sob. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this.”
“No, Annika. This is me. I should have been more careful when I went looking for you, and I should’ve told the others…” He kicks the side of the va
n in his frustration.
We are utterly alone, doomed. No one knows where we are, and probably, the Metanites are too busy to go on an immediate search. Nate and I are on our own without the slightest hope of survival. Nate and I… that’s where I’ve always found myself lately. He’s been there for me, with me, right up to the end…
“But I shouldn’t have left…” I say. Nate is silent. “And now we’re going to die.”
I wipe a tear off my cheek with my shoulder. Nate is still silent, so silent I’m guessing that he’s crying too. He shuffles down so our heads lay on the floor next to each other and we’re both staring at the roof of the van.
“Who would you say goodbye to?” I ask Nate. “If we had the chance?”
He sighs. “Cliff.”
I nod, understanding. “He’s your Cassandra.”
“Cassandra,” he says. “She was your sister, right?”
“I would do anything for her.”
“So you understand how much I love him.”
“Yeah… so just Cliff? You wouldn’t say goodbye to anyone else?”
“Am I allowed to?”
“Sure.”
“Well, the Metanites, of course. Zoë, Abe, Eli… and Lazz. He’s been… like a brother. I’d say goodbye to my mum, too.”
“Your mother?”
“She has Parkinson’s. She lives in a nursing home in Vermont. Cliff and I go visit her as much as we can.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I respond. A moment of silence passes while the van goes over a series of bumps.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Who would you say goodbye to?”
“No one. Everyone I could say goodbye to is dead,” I answer.
Everything is silent again, and the silence is unbearable.
“Actually,” I say, “it’s you. I would say goodbye to you.”
Nate smiles― I swear I can hear it. “Well, I’m here. What would you say to me?”
The Nancy Experiment Page 27