by Marie Dry
He spun twice, his eyes comically wide, and with a louder, even more dramatic groan than her alien, fell with a thud. Wait, what? Zanr wasn’t her alien. She kept running.
Weird, the way they made those dramatic noises when she stunned them. With them so weirdly literal and expressionless, she’d thought they’d act stoically. After all, they didn’t know her pistol was set on stun. And she definitely didn’t think they’d be that easy to put out of commission. She didn’t have time to think about it. Careful to stay out of grabbing distance, she ran around the fallen Zyrgin and prayed she didn’t kill him. If they caught her, she’d be in real trouble if she killed one of them. They might be invaders, but Zanr hadn’t harmed her. So far.
She ran faster toward where she could see the old truck and then forced herself to slow down. If she broke her ankles on the uneven mountain terrain, she’d lose this chance to get away.
Another alien loomed in front of her, as if he came out of nowhere. She screamed. He went for his weapon, weirdly slow.
“Oh no, you’re not shooting me when my means of escape is a few feet away,” she shouted and stunned him.
He spun three times and fell with a bloodcurdling noise, something between a scream and a groan, his arms waving around. He flopped around, groaning and writhing before he stilled. Her stomach roiling, she checked his breath. He was still alive.
She didn’t have time to waste. Rose kept running, fear giving her strength—this was too easy. What were the chances of her putting three aliens out of commission?
Another alien stood, peering into the truck. He turned to face her, almost in slow motion. She shot him and he spun four times before he fell, making even weirder noises. She had to waste precious moments to roll him out of the way so she could get into the car. “Bloody heavy alien,” she mumbled.
At least stunning the enemy was not difficult at all. She’d had so much trouble killing the images during training. She kept thinking if they were real, they’d have friends and family that would mourn their passing if she shot them, and she’d hesitate and lose points.
She couldn’t believe her luck when she saw the old-fashioned key still in the ignition. The truck was at least two centuries old or built in an older style. Vehicles didn’t use keys anymore. She’d seen a docu about old cars that used keys, and she never thought one day it would come in handy. When she turned the key, the engine came to life.
She wasted precious time figuring out the pedals, and the truck died on her twice, jumping forward and sputtering. At last she drove down the mountain road and would’ve shouted with victory, but she didn’t want to jinx her escape. Who knew what kind of vehicles they had to chase her down? Her stomach roiled at the thought. Zanr might’ve been nice to her the whole time, but if he got hold of her again? She didn’t want to think about it.
Now to get to Washington and find any of her colleagues who’d managed to escape the aliens so they could rescue Mr. Parnell and the captured agents. She looked in the mirror and saw an alien chasing her on foot, but she quickly left him behind.
At least now she would find out where their nest was for when she came back with the army and the police and the national guard. She’d stop at the first town that came up and get her bearings.
While she drove down the mountain unhindered, it kept bothering her. Her escape had been too easy.
Chapter Eight
She stopped at a small town with the quaint name of No Name Town. She asked for directions to Washington, from a man sitting on a miniscule porch in front of a general store, and got out of there. Something about the town was odd, but she didn’t want to hang around to figure out what bothered her. A woman alone was a target for all the wrong kind of people.
She got on the road again, and something she’d seen nagged at her but she couldn’t work out what. About two hours later, she carefully drove through the smallest of the potholes in the road when it hit her. That little town’s roads had been perfect. And there’d been trees. Lots of trees. She didn’t know of any town or city that still had that many trees and perfect roads. Did the aliens plant trees? She couldn’t see them planting trees and fixing roads.
A few miles from Washington, the late summer sun shone on the freshly painted metal of the old truck as it shuddered and came to a stop. Fueling stations were everywhere. But few of them could actually recharge, and she ran the risk of falling into the hands of raiders or other dangerous people every time she went into a populated area.
She opened the hood of the truck and peered inside. It looked like the kind of modern technology they had on science fiction shows. Rose stared at the glowing tubes crisscrossing where the old-fashioned engine should be. Stopping at fuelling stations wouldn’t have done her any good. The aliens had put in some kind of super-efficient fuel system into the truck, and she’d be eternally grateful for it, because it meant she’d almost reached DC before the truck stopped without a noise or a sputter. Unlike the aliens she’d stunned. She smirked, but then looked around her uneasily. It still bothered her that she’d managed to get away so easily. The way those aliens had spun and groaned had been too theatrical for her peace of mind. And if Zanr was a typical alien, when it came to fighting, they were scarily efficient. And she’d managed to shoot a whole bunch of them.
She’d made good time considering the condition of the roads. The eleven-hour trip had turned into a three-day journey due to potholes and some roads so bad, she’d driven beside the roads. When she’d stopped to sleep, she’d hidden the car behind old billboards once, and the second time inside a ditch that hid her from the road. But all things considered, it had been an easy trip. Even if it felt as if she’d gone through a million potholes.
She couldn’t hear city noises or see it yet, but she knew this road. It was the road they took to the farm where they practiced shooting and other skills. If only this old truck had run longer. As it was, she’d been lucky to steal a truck with a full tank of gas. Or some kind of alien juice. She frowned down at the broken-up road. Why did they call it gas? If at some time during the past, they’d put gas into vehicles, she was glad she lived in modern times. The crazy thing was that she missed Zanr—the way he brought her coffee and gave her hideous dresses, and she even missed waking up with her hair arranged in truly weird hairstyles.
She shook off those traitorous thoughts and focused on getting back to HQ. Obviously, someone had planned to take a trip, because she’d found a basket with food inside the truck, as well as bottles of water. It meant she didn’t have to stop. She could’ve gone without food, but she’d have been forced to stop for water. A very scarce commodity lately. She’d avoided the cities and the crimes prevalent there. Decades ago, they’d had offices in several states, but now only three remained, and none of them had been on her route.
No help for it—she’d have to walk. She could see the city in the distance, but it was going to be a hard walk. She looked down at her feet and sighed. She wore flat shoes that looked like ballet slippers, but had rubber soles. The alien had dressed her in this hideous dress and glitter-covered shoes, acting like she was his own personal doll. Of course, she’d managed to escape in one of the frilled monstrosities he was so proud of buying for her. She felt a strange ache, thinking how pleased he’d seemed to do things for her, to buy her whatever she wanted.
She’d looked for boots among the clothes in the closet, but had no luck. She reached over the front seat and took the sharp knife she’d found among the food in the picnic basket. She carefully inserted it into one of the many frills in her dress. She simply pushed the blade through one of the frills. At least they were good for hiding that she carried a weapon. Better take some food, as well. She wrapped the last of the bread and cheese in the cloth and set off down the road.
She’d only been walking half an hour when she heard the heavy truck. She’d seen it in her rear-view mirror on and off for the last two days. Her hand strayed to the knife. Did she dare chance asking for a lift? The smart thing to do would be
to hide until the truck had passed, but time was running out. Her feet had already taken a beating in her flimsy shoes. She had to get to HQ in case anyone had escaped the aliens. She had to free Mr. Parnell and the others.
She waved at the truck when it neared, and to her relief, it stopped. That relief turned to panic when the driver got out. He was large—broad shoulders and a bald head that uncomfortably reminded her of the alien. Dark eyes looked her over before piercing her with a direct, hard stare. It took every bit of courage she had not to take off running, which would be useless because he’d only chase her down.
“Run out of fuel for your vehicle?” His voice was rough and low—more a rumble—his words oddly formal and stilted.
She tried a smile. “Yes, could you perhaps take me to the city?” She bit her lip. She had no credits to offer him. “When we get to my destination, I can give you credits.” Some of the others would have credits on them. If not, she could use their TCs to access hers. She’d have to find a TC for herself anyway. She doubted she’d find hers still in the building.
He stared at her for such a long time she had to resist the urge to fidget. Then he pointed to the passenger side and she walked to the truck. He got in behind the wheel and leaning over, he opened the door for her. Rose looked at the seat so high up she had no idea how to get to it.
“Do you require assistance?”
“Uhm no, I’ve got it.” The flat area, meant to be used to step on and hoist yourself into the truck, was the same height as her hip. It would normally not be a problem, but she was still weak from trying to prove herself. Although she was stronger than she’d normally be after a testing, but still not one hundred percent. She gathered her strength, determined not to let him see how weak she was. She grabbed hold of the door with one hand and the seat with the other, and swung herself up and mercifully managed to reach the platform without falling on her face.
The trucker drove on the moment she closed the door. “Do you want some coffee?” the trucker offered in that deep voice that somehow sounded familiar. Every time he spoke, goose bumps covered her skin. She wouldn’t think about the only other being to whom she reacted like this. She openly stared at him, but if he was an alien in disguise, she didn’t see how.
She wasn’t about to eat or drink anything he could’ve drugged. “No, thanks, I had a picnic basket in my truck.” She lifted the wrapped bread and cheese. “And I still have some left.” The truck had served her well. It felt wrong to just leave it at the side of the road. Regret settled over her, like the cover of the testing box. Maybe she could retrieve it later, if no one else got to it first. She should’ve parked it off the road at least—behind something.
Rose estimated they had about an hour to reach the city. Two hours later and what felt like thousands of potholes later, she adjusted her estimate. They proceeded at a snail’s pace. The trucker didn’t speak, just kept driving with all his focus on the road.
“Imagine there was a time when you could drive between cities at incredible speeds. The roads didn’t have any potholes then.” Super highways that took people everywhere they wanted to go at incredible speeds.
He grunted. The trucker sure wasn’t very talkative, but he kept sending her these piercing glances that had her hand inch toward her knife. They entered the city through another road she’d traveled before. She sat up straight. “That’s weird.”
“What is strange about it?”
“This road is new. And look, the buildings are painted and there’s no holes in the walls.”
“The Zyrgins are fixing everything.”
Her heart sank. “The Zyrgins?” If this trucker knew about them and they were fixing things, her hope that there were only a few on the mountain was dashed.
“The aliens that rule Earth now.” He sounded way too happy about it.
“So, they think they rule Earth now?” It was as if she’d gone into that hole in that horrible basement in one world and came out of it in another world.
He slanted her a glance. “They do rule Earth now. Did you miss the parade?”
“Parade?”
“Hundreds of thousands of their warriors marched through this city.”
“No, I didn’t see that,” she said, feeling sick to her stomach.
Rose stared at the road they drove on and then the apartment buildings and businesses they passed. Everything looked new and people walked around with confidence. This area used to be run by gangs; now none of their graffiti decorated any of the walls. “How long has this been going on?” She couldn’t have been in the hole more than two weeks. Another two with the aliens. How could everything change in such a short time?
“They will get to the other cities.” She didn’t like the admiration in his voice. No matter how good the city looked, aliens couldn’t be allowed to rule over humans.
“What’s today’s date?” she asked him.
He told her and she would’ve staggered if she wasn’t sitting down.
“They started fixing things about a month ago. Everything was falling apart,” he said, still sounding as if he admired their invaders.
She glared at him. “That might be so, but surely you can see we cannot allow aliens to take over our country. We can fix things ourselves.”
A strange disbelieving snort came from her companion. “I do not believe that is possible. Without the…aliens, Earth will become primitive.”
“Don’t you want to kick the aliens off our world?” She’d rather live free on a primitive planet than in chains in a country with restored cities.
“No. Where did you want to go?”
She gave him the address, crossing her fingers. “I have friends there,” she said, looking around. With the new roads, they’d be at the building in no time. Her mouth dropped open when they stopped at a working traffic light. Now she knew why her companion didn’t want to kick the aliens off Earth. He and probably millions of other people had been seduced by promises of working cities and who knows what else. In all her years in the capital city, she could count on one hand the times the traffic lights actually worked.
A thought struck her and she frowned. “I didn’t see any improvement on the highway here.”
“This city seems to be their priority.”
Rose watched several women walking down the sidewalk, unafraid. At the rate the aliens were going, they’d be fixing the highways soon. They had to be stopped, before they enslaved the human race with new cities and safe sidewalks. “How on earth did this happen in the short time I’ve been―” She bit her lip.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “Everyone is talking about the aliens and what they are doing.”
She shrugged. “I’ve been away to see my family,” she lied. She rubbed the spot where her chest ached.
The last thing she expected to see when they reached the building was rubble. Rose gasped and then whimpered, staring at the sight in front of her with disbelieving eyes. It couldn’t be. Her home, her colleagues, all gone. If Zanr stood before her, she’d kill him. “How did this happen?” Did the aliens destroy the building to ensure no one could stop the invasion?
“Aliens,” the trucker said succinctly. Proudly?
She turned on him. “What’s wrong with you? They destroyed a symbol of our government. How can you admire our enemy?”
“They get things done.”
Rose opened the door and got out, and walked around the rubble, feeling dazed.
She registered movement from the corner of her eye. At the edge of the rubble, where the side entrance used to be, she saw a familiar figure. They locked gazes for half a second, and he did that up and down thing some men did when they looked at a woman. His lip curled at the frilly monstrosity she wore.
She opened her mouth to call out, glad to see a familiar face, even if it was Morgan’s, but he melted into traffic and disappeared. Morgan Sinclair. For the first time since she’d met him, she was glad to see him. But she was also careful not to let the trucker, who’d followed h
er out of the truck, know she saw someone she recognised. He was a little too impressed with the aliens. For that matter, why didn’t Morgan come and talk to her? Maybe he’d been followed, or saw someone following her? She tried to look around without being obvious, but didn’t see anyone suspicious.
Rose turned to face the man that had brought her here. He might be an alien lover, but he’d helped her. “I’m sorry, I can’t pay you. I thought my friends would be here.”
“I do not require credits from you,” he said. Again, something tugged at her memory. She stared at him, but apart from his size, he was definitely human.
Rose turned back to look at the rubble. If Morgan got away, there had to be others. She wandered over to the corner where she’d seen Morgan. Trying to appear casual, she glanced around. There—a symbol scratched into a piece of jagged rubble. New York? Did this mean everyone who’d escaped had gone to New York? Or did Morgan want to meet her in New York?
She’d have to go there. She’d never been to New York, but there was a safehouse a few blocks away where she should at least be able to find weapons and more appropriate clothes. She turned to the trucker. “I don’t suppose the aliens have instated a form of travel between cities.”
“No, where do you wish to go?”
She smiled at him and took a step back. “Thank you for helping me, but I will be all right from here on.” She tried to look casual and competent, but truthfully, she needed him. His truck would get her to New York much faster than she could manage on her own. So far, he hadn’t tried anything. Traveling with him would be much safer than going on her own.
It still bothered her that she got away from the lot at the mountain this easily. Zanr, who’d called her breeder, hadn’t looked like the type to give up. She bit her lip, then blurted out, “I don’t suppose you’re going to New York.”