Dramok Dusa disappeared, his great big self replaced by the floating words, Play recording again? He’d used an Earther device to record his message. I could see ‘Property of Law Enforcement Academy’ stamped on it. He’d spoken perfect English, albeit with a kind of slurred accent.
Mom was already pawing through the container, which had fruits and vegetables. She shoved a peach in her mouth, not noticing as juice ran down her arm to drip off her elbow. Her dim gaze told me she had disappeared back behind the veil of dementia. As angry as she is when she’s herself, at least she could have offered a good sounding board for me to discuss our situation. Now she was gone in that little girl mindset, leaving me to figure everything out on my own. Again.
It was on the tip of my tongue to warn her not to eat the food, which might have been drugged or poisoned. Then it occurred to me that had the Kalquorian wanted to hurt or kidnap us, he could have easily done so last night. I sure as hell never heard him come into the house. Okay, so apparently his kind aren’t in a hurry to harvest vaginas. That’s a relief, I guess.
Still, he’d said he’d done a medical scan. Even if it was a portable scanner that one waves over the body, the idea makes me feel too vulnerable. Almost violated, in fact. The thought of it sends cold through my body despite the oppressive heat and humidity we’re having.
I shake to realize how helpless Mom and I had been against this Dramok Dusa despite the locked doors and windows (which were, by the way, still locked when I checked). He must have used a frequency disruptor to break in. I almost threw up thinking about it.
He is coming back in five days. I have that long to find us another place to hide. At least I know who had been watching me at the river. The alien’s snide remark about the water’s drinkability told me that much.
“Are we going to the Academy before he returns?” My mother spoke through a mouthful of juicy peach.
“Why would we do such a thing?” I snapped. “Didn’t you hear what he said? They’re registering Earthers. Getting a head count. Processing us. Then we’re off to work in their mines and have their freak alien babies.”
I realized I was repeating the Earther government mantra on the evils of Kalquorians. I had no idea if they kept slaves for their mines these days, as they had done to Joshadans in the very distant past. The breeding issue was pretty much a foregone conclusion though.
“He said we could go to our own colonies. We don’t have to go to Kalquor.”
I snorted at her mind-fogged innocence. “It’s a bunch of pretty lies told by the enemy. They realize a good number of us are desperate enough to buy into it too.”
Despite my concerns, I couldn’t help but poke through the food container Dusa had left behind. Tomatoes, strawberries, lettuce, oranges, green beans, carrots, and more. There were two whole chickens, kept fresh in cooling containers. And water. Lots and lots of water.
“We can’t stay here. Earth is dying, he said. Or is that a lie too?” Mom asked.
No, that’s the truth. Mike told me if only a quarter of the warheads went off, we were pretty much staring at extinction. But Mom’s eyes were filling with tears, and she seemed scared. I can’t bear for my mother to look that way.
All my life, my mother Eve Monroe has been either suicidally depressed or abusively angry. She got the short end of the bipolar stick, since most sufferers bounce between depression and manic highs. Her highs come out mean. Since she has an almost phobic hatred of medication and treatment, she never got better. She was rarely a picnic to be around, but she was tough in her anger mode. Even when she was depressed, she never came across as scared.
I can’t handle her scared. So I said, “We only have his word for it, don’t we? I’m sure we can put off the panic for the moment.”
“All right,” she said and went back to eating fruit. She found a bunch of grapes and wandered down the hall into the bedroom. She’s knitting baby booties in there, of all things. She must have enough to keep the toes of fifty newborns cozy by this time. I don’t say a word about it since it means she’s busy and happy.
I’m scared of sneaking out tonight, now that the Kalquorians are aware of where we’re hiding. I’m mostly worried about leaving Mom alone. But we have to go somewhere else. We can’t stay here anymore, waiting to be collected by our enemies.
August 24
I can’t stop crying, except when I’m around Mom. I manage to barely hold it together for her, but I do. I have to. I have to keep her from being upset, because I can’t control her when she’s upset.
I went out last night to find us a new place to hide. I was terrified, but there was nothing else I could do, right? Except give us up to the Kalquorians. I’ll admit, I seriously thought about it. I mean, the alien who brought us the food could have taken us prisoner without much fuss. It doesn’t make sense to try to convince us to walk into the Academy on our own if the aliens mean to make us slaves. I don’t know how alien minds think. I can’t imagine what they have planned for us.
So as much as I’d prefer to swallow the sweet bedtime story of food, shelter, and being sent to one of the colonies, I won’t. Not until I’m sure we won’t trade a lifeless planet for something worse.
I crept out with only moonlight to illuminate my surroundings. I had no idea what dark really was until there were no more streetlights to drive away all that black. Even after my eyes adjusted, it was a real feat not to walk into trees and stuff. I had a flashlight with me, but no way was I about to turn it on. Who knew what was out there, looking for a woman wandering about with only a kitchen knife as defense?
I found out. Oh God, I found out.
I’d gone two miles, moving closer to the Academy, believing the proximity to it would deter unwanted gangs from venturing near. I figured I’d only have to worry about the Kalquorians that way. To my thinking, it should have cut my chances of running into enemies in half. It turned out I had more enemies than I imagined.
I walked along a stand of trees skirting the highway. The moon kept the road easy to see, the asphalt a quicksilver river running straight and true. The trees were good cover. I listened carefully too. When a Kalquorian shuttle hummed overhead or I heard anything besides the peepers and whippoorwills doing their nighttime concert, I froze. I held onto that knife with a death grip, ready to do whatever it took to fight off any creature that came at me. I’ve never killed anyone, and I wasn’t sure I could even if my life was at stake. But it’s not just me I have to take care of. Mom needs me. I’m not much of a caretaker, but I’m all she’s got. Boy, I was feeling that responsibility last night as I snuck through the trees, keeping the road in sight.
The woods were becoming a sparse as I went along, and I began to focus ahead to see the best route that would keep me hidden. It was mostly thin pines, with the occasional oak here and there. I kept low as I moved among the pine trees, practically crawling and straining to hear the least little sound. I made it to one of the oaks, a massive beast of a tree, almost prehistoric in size. Another stretch of pines lay before me, which would put me in danger of exposure once more. On the other side of those waited a huge boulder that I could hide behind and catch my breath. After that, the cover would thicken again.
I was halfway to the boulder when something putrid began to stink up the place. It smelled like a dumpster filled with rotting food. The farther I crept, the worst the stench grew. I figured that once I got behind that rock, I’d have to puke my guts up. It smelled that horrible.
My eyes were watering only a few feet from my boulder. My stomach twisted, getting ready to heave. I could taste that noxious poison on my tongue. I was sure there must be a dead animal up ahead, bloated and decomposing in the hot, muggy Georgia summer. I kept my eyes open for it, because if I stumbled and landed on it, I would be projectile vomiting.
I ended up about an arm’s length away from the boulder. The fucking stone – it moved. The ‘boulder’ reared up and stood on two thick legs, about seven feet of monster looming over me. Its chipped tus
ks gleamed in the moonlight, surrounding a rounded snout. A fucking Tragoom. A motherfucking, Shalia-killing Tragoom.
It’s no wonder I took the damned bastard to be a rock, crouching there at the edge of the trees. Tragooms look like the bastard children of a pig, a rhinoceros, and Mount Everest. That was where the stink came from. Those massive, nasty creatures will eat anything – or anyone – they can catch. I had walked right up to it.
It lunged for me, and I didn’t have to think. My arm jackhammered the knife I held, trying to stab the Tragoom in its massive chest. Rough, tree bark hands – paws – hooves – whatever it uses to grab – wrapped around my upper arms. The blade bounced harmlessly off its hide. The Tragoom jerked me close to its rancid body. Its mouth opened wide, sending carrion stench boiling out. I thought, I’m going to die and the last thing I’ll know is this smell of other dead critters it’s eaten.
Then something hit the Tragoom with the force of a runaway train. The Tragoom let go of me and squealed a shriek. The attacker roared as fierce as a lion. My ears popped. I imagined maybe an animal had broken loose from a zoo. Except the closest zoo was in Atlanta, and that’s a crater now.
Thinking these stupid thoughts, I fell to the ground. The Tragoom fought the assailant, which was not quite as big. They rolled out of the trees towards the road. In the moonlight, I could see a human form struggling with the monster. Then the shwoop sound of a percussion blaster went off, and the Tragoom collapsed to the ground. It didn’t move any more.
The other figure that appeared human stood up, its silhouette tall and muscled. He stared towards me and said, “Are you all right, Matara?”
I knew that deep, smooth voice even though it was a little out of breath. It was Dramok Dusa, the Kalquorian who’d left food for me and Mom, along with a promise he’d see us in a few days. The very reason I was out here tempting Tragooms to snack on me.
I didn’t answer. I turned and ran all the way home, expecting the Kalquorian to grab me at any moment. I made it without being captured. Though my lungs burned like fire and I did finally puke, I pushed furniture against the front and back doors, to try and keep Dusa out. To make us safe from all the monsters running around out there in the dark.
When I was a kid, I believed the bogeyman was a real creature, something that could pounce on me at any moment after the lights went out. I knew that monsters roamed the night no matter what the grownups said. It turns out I was right.
August 26
It’s been a couple days. Did you miss me, dear diary? I feel like a goofy teenager pouring out all my ideas and feelings to a piece of electronic technology. With no one to talk to besides the Duchess of Dementia, you’re all I have. I’ll try not to gush about the boys that I thought were cute in high school. Insert eye roll here.
I am feeling better despite all that’s happened and where we are now. We moved. I’m sure that Kalquorian Dramok Dusa was keeping an eye on us. Why else would he have been there when I stumbled across that Tragoom? Okay, so it was good he was spying, what with me almost ending up in the belly of that nasty beast. I am grateful the big, strong Kalquorian came to my rescue. But being stalked is too creepy. I do not want an alien of any sort watching me all the time, especially since I don’t know what his intentions are. So me and Mom packed a couple of backpacks with all the food and water we could carry and snuck out of the house two nights ago. I was worried – okay, terrified – that the Kalquorian was going to appear at any moment with some cohorts and march us to the Academy. In fact, I was surprised that we made it to where we were headed. It wouldn’t have shocked me had we been captured.
Luck was with us. There were no Kalquorian attacks. No Tragooms searching for dinner. Mom stayed quiet and did everything I told her to do. Now here we are camped out in a garage that fixes pluggers – electric cars – that most of the middle class drive. Oops, used to drive. I haven’t gotten used to everyday life being in the past tense.
I don’t think anyone would expect us to hide out in such a place, which is why I picked it for our new digs. We’re only a mile from the Academy, which gives me a sense of security. Surely the gangs and Tragooms won’t venture so near to the Kalquorians. The Kalquorians would never suspect Earthers would stay this close to them. Living right under their noses is the best option, in my opinion.
The waiting room of the garage isn’t too bad as far as living goes. There’s a couch for Mom to sleep on, along with some chairs, a desk, and a table. The floor isn’t that comfortable, but I’m making do with it as a sleeping space. I schlepped to the house twice last night and snagged some blankets, along with more of our food and water. Fortunately…or unfortunately, depending on my mood…there wasn’t much left to bring here. Mom ignored all my orders to ration and went through Dusa’s offerings pretty quick when I wasn’t watching. It looks as if hungry times are ahead once again for the Monroe women.
So far there have been no signs of Dusa or his pals lurking around since we got here. I’ve seen no evidence anyone knows we’ve changed our address. I think I can finally relax. I’m even shrugging off Mom’s frequent complaints that she doesn’t want to live in a garage and why don’t we take up that nice Kalquorian’s offer of food and shelter at the Academy?
I’m so glad we escaped. I feel like I can enjoy a decent night’s sleep finally. Tomorrow I’ll worry about the food issue, but for now, I’m going to rest.
August 29
Just when I think life can’t suck any worse than it does, it proves to me it can. With great delight.
Two nights ago, we were hit with what had to have been a tropical storm. Maybe a Category One hurricane. It turns out a garage is not a good place to ride out a storm. I’ll be damned if half the roof didn’t peel back over us, sending buckets of water down. I made Mom hide under the desk in the waiting room so she could stay somewhat dry, along with a few of our belongings (including this handheld). Lucky me, there was nowhere I could go to escape the constant pour and wind. I can’t believe I didn’t get killed by the flying debris, but it somehow missed me.
I feel soaked to the bone though the last of the storm finally left a good ten hours ago. We may never dry out. There’s a lake in the middle of the garage itself. The carpet here in the waiting room is still squishing, and Mom is sleeping on top of the desk as we wait for the couch to dry.
Okay, so I seriously screwed up by bringing us here. How was I supposed to know we’d have a hurricane tearing off the roof? It’s not like I can call up a weather report anymore. Damn it, we can’t stay here. We’re nearly out of food too. I’ve got a serious case of the chills on top of everything else and a nasty cough. I can’t fall sick. I don’t have time to be sick.
I’m heading out, hoping to find another shelter to hide in and some food, not to mention avoiding marauding aliens. I guess we really did elude that Dramok, considering no one came to our rescue during the storm. If I’m careful, I should be okay.
August 29 (later)
I wasn’t able to get far. Kalquorian ships are flying everywhere overhead, like they’re on patrol or something. I did venture close enough to see a few possible houses to check out a few blocks away. I was also able to break into two and scavenged some canned food and a nice, dry sleeping bag. I’m going to curl into it now. I’m so damned cold. Fuck the outdoor thermometer that insists it’s 85 degrees. It must be broken.
August 29 late or August 30 too fucking early
God, will this night ever end? I woke up shivering because I couldn’t get warm in my insulated sleeping bag. I glanced on top of the desk, and discovered Mom was missing. I nearly had a heart attack. I went running outside without checking first to see if any bad stuff was lurking. I found Mom standing in the middle of the parking lot. There she was, dead center of the cracked pavement, gawping up at the shuttles zooming overhead. She was wearing just her underwear and bra to boot. Damn it, how the Kalquorians didn’t see her and swoop down to do whatever they’d do to a barely clothed elderly lady, I don’t know.
> I didn’t try to coerce her into coming into the garage with me. I grabbed her and dragged, shoved, carried, whatever it took to lure her back inside. That set off a round of coughing from me that you would swear should have brought up a lung.
When I finally caught my breath, I asked Mom with my voice all high and screechy and freaked out, “What were you doing out there?”
Do you know what she said? Do you know what my deranged mother said?
“It’s too hot in here. I wanted to stand in the breeze.”
Fuck me. Here I am, doing my best to keep her hidden and safe, and she goes parading around in her drawers, inviting everyone to have a gander. Adding insult to injury, I’m also busy doing my impression of Frosty the Snowman. I feel I’ve turned into a huge block of ice, and she’s hot. She’s sweating. Matter of fact, so am I. I’m sweating and cold all at once. I guess I am getting sick, though I have to fight through it. We cannot afford for me to be ill with a cold or flu or whatever I’m coming down with.
Now I’m crying. And shivering. Coughing. Choking on an ocean of phlegm. I swear, sometimes I wish we’d been in D.C. when the bombs went off. Being dead has got to be better than living through this constant hell of pain and fear.
Shalia's Diary Omnibus Page 3