by N. W. Harris
“Watch,” Athos said, pointing at a tall building that stood just outside the airport.
The mirrors concentrated the light onto a central panel positioned at the top of the steps. Shamus watched with eyes growing wider. His soldiers had yet to realize what was going on, and Athos saw two of the white-clad humans pulled into the crowd. The panels came into proper alignment, releasing the blast.
Cutting into a floor near the top of the building, the crude laser superheated the air inside in an instant. The resulting expansion caused an explosion that lit up the dark sky, sending burning chunks of the structure in every direction.
Shamus’ people fell silent once more, all eyes directed toward the explosion. Angry faces gave way to stupefied expressions. Athos suppressed a chuckle. Any idea that these kids had about trying to fight the Anunnaki had just vanished.
“Holy shit,” Shamus croaked.
“Unrefined,” Athos replied, acting disappointed. “It took longer to target the weapon than it should, a weakness that will be remedied with exercise.”
In reality, the power of the weapon exceeded his expectations. He let the engineers controlling the beam target the building until the upper portion collapsed. Concrete and melting steel slid off the sides of the structure and crashed down with a deafening clamor that echoed off the side of the ship.
Athos made a sign to the torchbearer, and he swung the torch right and left once. The mirrors rotated, returning to a configuration that cast the stunned humans surrounding the Pegasus in light and warmth. Squinting at the light with newfound respect, they turned their eyes toward the ship and broke into applause and cheers louder than their angry complaints from moments before.
“Yeah,” Shamus said, rubbing his nose. “That’s slick.”
“Indeed,” Athos replied. He could see the leader of the kids had tried to hide his awe, a trait that impressed Athos. “So, how does my plan sound?”
“Good enough,” Shamus replied, making an obvious attempt to act unimpressed. He surveyed the hoard of grimy humans. “I’ll need to send most of them out into the city, but I’ll get that perimeter guarded.”
“Let them enjoy the light and warmth for a few hours and rest,” Athos said. “It’ll give us time to help you organize them into squads and platoons so they’ll be easier to manage.”
“Yeah,” Shamus hesitantly said, like he suspected Athos might try to take control of his people. “We’ll have kids to lead these squads and platoons?”
“Yes,” Athos replied. “And you can pick them if you like.”
“I’ll do that.” Shamus sounded satisfied.
Although he hid it better than the rest, the young human was intimidated, as were those under his charge. Athos didn’t mind the illusion that Shamus and his people maintained their independence; he’d find a way to put them in their place once the enemy was destroyed. Without the slave gene to control them, he knew their loyalty could be fickle. For now, they would fight for him, and hopefully he’d convinced them that if they turned against the Anunnaki, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kelly hooked her arm into Shane’s. Nat held her other hand. They walked across the farm to the road, the rest of the kids in tow. Crossing the asphalt, he glanced at Kelly and her sister. They both wore sickened expressions, painful memories of what happened on their family’s nearby farm seeming to engulf them.
“We’re down on the other side of Granny’s,” Shane reassured. “We won’t go near your place.” He paused. “Unless you want to.”
Kelly shook her head to say no, relief crossing her face at his promise.
When they came in sight of Granny’s little old white house, a surge of emotions hit Shane. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his knees grew weak, and his empty stomach threatened to turn itself inside out.
Surprised by the effect the place had on him, he looked at the end of the driveway. The massive swarm of bees had attacked his aunt there. He could hear her screams and smell the metallic odor of blood that came from her million weeping stings. Shane remembered knowing she would die, though he fought with everything to save her. He recalled his confusion, wondering why the bees hadn’t attacked him.
Turning his attention to the house, he tried to push the memories out of his mind. Granny’s was just as he’d left it. The garage door was open from when he’d barreled out of it in the old pickup, trying to get his aunt to the hospital.
“You okay?” Kelly asked, sounding concerned. “Maybe we shouldn’t go in.”
“No,” Shane hoarsely said. “I’ll be fine.” He gave her a weak grin. “Just harder than I expected.”
“You’re brave to come back here,” she replied softly, hugging his arm.
“It’s strange,” he mused, trying to come to grips with his emotions. “All my life, this was the happiest place in the world for me. Every time I’d come here, I’d feel better. At peace, you know?”
“Yeah,” Kelly said. “Your grandmother was the coolest old lady I’ve ever met.”
“Then she died,” he continued. “Which sucked, but I expected it. Then my aunt was attacked here.” He drifted off.
“It’s a lot of bad,” she agreed. “But so much more good happened here before that.” She paused and wrinkled her brow like she was fed up with something.
“Hey, let’s be at peace here now,” she said, sounding determined. “I want to be happy, to forget what we’re going through for just a few hours.” She laughed and nudged his shoulder. “Funny because you’d think forgetting is the last thing I’d want to do right now.”
Kelly pointed at the old oak tree on the side yard.
“I remember coming over here when I was little,” she said, a smile rising on her face. “After church, your granny would put out a spread of food, and we’d eat and play.”
“I’ve been on that swing,” Nat exclaimed. Embracing Kelly’s plan to have some fun, she released her hand and ran to the old tire. Shane was surprised she found the energy, having had to walk for so many hours.
An expression of joy lit up Kelly’s face as she watched the girl climb on. The sun seemed to shine brighter and warmer, making golden strands of her hair seem lit from within. Seeing her standing there and happy caused so many good feelings in him at once that he felt like he might explode.
“You’re so beautiful. I love you, Kelly Douglas.”
She looked at him and blushed. Shane hadn’t realized he’d spoke the thoughts out loud, and his cheeks grew warmer.
Biting her lower lip, she studied him with a look that infused him with warmth. She leaned in, pressed her lips to his, and held them there. Her closeness drugged him, causing him to grow dizzy until he expected his knees to give out.
“Gross,” Nat squealed, covering her eyes and snickering.
Kelly started laughing with her lips against his before she pulled away.
“If you don’t like it, don’t look,” she teased, running over and tickling Nat’s ribs. They laughed, and then Kelly began pushing her on the swing.
“I swung on this for hours,” Kelly said, nostalgic joy on her face. “I didn’t want to do anything else when I was here.” She chuckled. “My mom would have to make me a plate and bring it to the tire swing if she wanted me to eat.”
“Those were some awesome Sunday afternoons,” Shane agreed.
He loved the gatherings with all the people and the food they’d bring. Back then, he’d run off with the other boys who came to play in the field or in the woods. He remembered Kelly on the swing. Even before he really thought about girls, he’d decided if he were somehow forced to have a girlfriend, he’d want it to be her.
“Look,” Nat exclaimed, pointing at the briar patch along the right side of the house. “There are still blackberries.”
“Wow,” Shane replied. “I wouldn’t expect them to be around this late in the year, not with how cold it has been without the sun.”
“Can I go pick ‘em?” Nat’s excitement was infectiou
s.
“Of course,” Kelly replied, smiling down at her.
“Grab a bucket and some of the other kids,” Shane advised. “If y’all pick enough, we can make some blackberry pancakes for everyone.”
“Yay,” the little girl cheered, running off.
Shane laughed, wondering if any of the berries would make it into the buckets. The kids were stuffing them into their mouths as fast as they could pick them, staining their faces and fingers with the dark purple juice.
Shane and Kelly rounded up a few other kids and went to Granny’s giant pantry. Once he stood before all the ingredients, he felt too exhausted to try to cook anything. It was easier to grab the jarred and canned food, which they put on the edge of the porch. They had people take what they wanted and share with each other. Once everyone had something to eat, Shane slipped away with Kelly. They found the swing on the back porch vacant.
“Ah,” Shane said. “Best spot on the farm.”
He led her up the short flight of steps, and they took a seat. They swung without speaking, lost in thought. Kelly moved closer and laid her head on his shoulder. The hypnotic creaking sound of the swing’s chains sliding on their hooks relaxed Shane. It always had. How many thousands of hours had he spent sitting there, he wondered. When he was a baby, his mother had held him in her arms while sitting on the floating wooden bench. He and Granny had many an enjoyable conversation swaying back and forth. It seemed so much bigger when he was a kid, before he understood there was a limit to the time he’d get to spend with the people who he shared it with.
“Porch swings are something special,” Shane said. “I’ve done so much living here.”
“Never knew you were such a poet,” Kelly teased.
“Naw,” he said, blushing.
“It’s true what you said, though,” she tiredly whispered. “About porch swings.”
Shane’s eyes grew heavy. He knew they’d need to take advantage of the reprieve and get some sleep. But he also didn’t want to waste a moment of this precious time with Kelly. When Greenie took the sun, it would also take her again. The thought made him want to sit on the porch swing and hold her close the entire time, not giving up a moment of this to sleep.
“Would you do anything different if you’d known how things would turn out?” Kelly said, seeming to ask herself the question as much as him.
“How do you mean?” The direct answer that appeared in his head was a resounding yes. He would’ve been more forgiving of his father, would’ve cherished each moment with his mother more, and would’ve started hanging out with Kelly a whole lot sooner, to name a few. It was maddening for him to think about everything he’d change.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice cracking. “Sometimes, it just hurts to think of how little time we had… you know?”
“I know,” he replied.
Sliding his arm around her back, he pulled her into an embrace. His heart ached for her. He’d do anything to keep her from feeling sadness or pain, and yet there was nothing he could do. It seemed lately all they ever did was suffer. In an odd way, it struck him as merciful for Greenie to snuff her memories with the sunlight.
“Sorry. I said I was going to be happy,” she said, smiling at him and wiping a tear from her eye.
“It’s all right,” Shane said. “I want you to feel like you can tell me anything, anytime.”
“You’re sweet.” She smiled and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.
They swung back and forth in silence, holding tightly to each other.
“I think we should get some sleep,” Kelly whispered.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The noise from the front yard had died down, and he expected most of the kids had already passed out.
“I had big plans to make pancakes,” he said.
“I don’t think anyone will be awake to eat them,” she replied, pressing her head under his chin. “I want to lie down. With you.”
“Okay,” he replied, heat surging through him. He tried not to act as giddy as he felt about spending time alone with her, standing and taking her hand.
He led her into the house and down the hall, stepping over the towels he’d dropped on the floor after getting the bees off his aunt. He tried not to look at them, too worn out to deal with those horrible memories. They went into his bedroom, and she plopped onto his bed, letting out an exhausted sigh.
“Can you close the door?” she asked, smiling bashfully. “And lock it? I can’t stand to be bothered by anyone else, just for a bit.”
It had been so long since they had a moment alone. Nervous butterflies took flight in his stomach. He pushed the door shut and turned the lock.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When Shane awoke, his eyes darted to the window. Sunlight still filtered through the sheer curtain. He’d drifted off, worried they’d oversleep and Greenie would wake them with darkness and another murder. He let out a relieved sigh. Lying back onto the bed, he turned his attention to Kelly. Remembering the passion that had consumed them before they passed out, he smiled and slid closer to her. He held her for a few minutes, and then she awoke with the same concern he’d had.
“Thank goodness,” she said, looking out the window.
“I know.” He stood and stretched.
“Wow.” She chuckled, eyeing him. “You’re certainly not the modest type, are you?”
“Nope,” he said, grabbing his pants. “I’m going to make pancakes.”
“My gosh,” she said, putting her hand on her stomach. “That sounds so good right now.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” he replied, leaning down and kissing her.
Shane stepped out the back door and found Tracy and Jules on the porch swing, leaning against each other.
“Y’all want to help?” he asked. “We’ve got an army to feed.”
“I’m all about it,” Tracy replied. “Let’s eat.”
Lucky for them, Granny loved cooking for lots of people. She had a shed on the back of her house filled with outdoor cooking equipment, large pots and pans, and an industrial-sized portable gas stove with a griddle attachment perfect for making pancakes.
Though Nat and the other little kids hadn’t managed to get too many of the blackberries into the buckets earlier, they did a respectable job of harvesting while Shane and the others set up the outdoor kitchen and gathered the ingredients from Granny’s pantry.
“Wow,” Maurice exclaimed, walking into the pantry with Shane and Petrov. “You’d think your grandma was running a restaurant out of this place. That woman must’ve loved to buy bulk.”
“Yeah, this was supposed to be another bedroom, but she repurposed it,” Shane said. “She liked to be ready to feed people, whether it be one or one hundred showing up for dinner.”
“Blessed woman,” Maurice said, smiling as he observed the rows of shelves, stacked floor to ceiling with jars of fruits and vegetables.
“She grew just about everything in here, save some of the fruits she’d get from the orchards around the county.”
They grabbed three industrial-sized bags of flour, took them outside and set them on the table next to the griddle before returning for the rest of the ingredients. The chickens may have gone mad while the limbic manipulator was active, but they had since returned to their coop, and he found more than enough eggs. Granny had showed Shane how to cook the world’s best pancakes years ago, though he had to make them without buttermilk. It wasn’t long until he was slinging plates of the short stacks to the growing line.
The home-cooked meal did wonders for the kids’ morale. As he served the last boy seconds, he glanced around the field behind Granny’s house. Kids lounged on the grass, laughing and soaking in the sun. They seemed more relaxed than they had since he met them. Shane gazed down the hill, toward the forest at the other end of Granny’s property. He could see where the light ended and the darkness began. As far as he could tell, there were only two places on Earth with sun shining on them—here at
Granny’s and down south, where that constant beam of light beckoned them.
Shane turned the griddle off and disconnected the gas. Steve and Maurice helped him put everything away, then he joined Kelly on the swing on Granny’s back porch.
“You’re quite the chef,” Kelly said, lacing her fingers between his.
“It was nothing,” Shane replied. “Granny used to have me help with the pancake fundraiser at the church. Guess I got plenty of practice.”
“Well,” she said, watching Nat and the other kids play in the backyard, “You made everyone feel better for a moment. I think they needed it pretty badly.”
“Yeah,” he replied, sad at the thought Kelly might not remember any of this once Greenie took the light.
As if on cue, he saw the darkness sweeping up the field from the forest.
“It’s time,” he said, standing. “Maurice, Tracy, get Jules,” he shouted.
“Shane?” Kelly’s relaxed expression contorted into fear. “It feels like my mind is being torn from me.”
“I know,” he said, taking her into his arms. “I got you. Don’t worry.”
Maurice and Tracy got the ropes around Jules just as the darkness engulfed them. Greenie was generous enough to give them a bright moon right away so they weren’t blinded by total darkness. Kelly pushed out of his embrace and glared at him with a confused expression.
“What happened?” she asked, eyes blinking. She seemed uncomfortable with the intimacy she’d woken up in.
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“Walking all night. Training as we walked,” she replied. “Then it started to get light, and I don’t remember anything after that.”
“So your nights are strung together for half of your memories, and your days for the other half,” he concluded.
“If you say so,” she replied, glancing over at Nat.
The little girl had stepped up onto the porch, seeming to want to see if the darkness had made her older sister forget everything again. Kelly’s confused expression was enough to show that she had. Nat dropped her head and walked back down into the yard.