The Last 8

by Laura Pohl

  There’s a flash behind me as the electromagnetic pulse goes off, and I speed away from it across the desert, the other two ships right on my tail.

  There’s a gasp over the intercom, and, for a second, I’m afraid that we’ve failed, that the pulse didn’t work and we’re all going to die.

  I turn my plane around, and it’s like everything in the world has come to a stop. Then I see the spaceship that towered over the desert a moment ago, now slowly falling toward it.

  It lands with a tremendous crash, raising a huge cloud of dust. I can feel the impact from the sky, where I watch, almost too stunned to react.

  “Go, go, go!” shouts Violet over the intercom, and I know it’s make-it-or-break-it time. “Spread out.”

  I wish I could be down there fighting with them, but that’s not my job. I snap out of my stupor and speed up, the two scouts following close behind me.

  I pray that they’re too dumb to call for reinforcements.

  I hear shouts over the intercom, but I ignore them. I have to if I’m going to get through this. It’s evident that Rayen isn’t going to be able to shoot the pulse a second time, so I tell myself what I already know: I’m on my own.

  The scouts blow past me, pressing me on both sides. It looks like they’re not carrying weapons—probably to make them lighter, so they can keep up with me. This is my chance to take them out. Surely and speedily, I lead the way across the desert toward a group of treacherous canyons.

  The glare of the sun is starting to blind me. I have no idea how the scouts can see my plane, with the way the sun must be glinting off of it. What if they can only see me on their radar?

  That gives me an idea.

  I can still hear static and shouting and the blast of guns in the background. But nobody is screaming yet, which I take as a good sign.

  “Andy,” I say over the comm unit. “Do you have your laptop with you?”

  “Do humans breathe oxygen?”

  “Do me a favor,” I tell her. The scouts are still on my tail. “You think you can fake a radar signal for a plane?”

  She doesn’t respond for a minute. Then she answers, “I think I can. What do you need me to do?”

  I quickly explain my plan to her. I can hear the faint sound of typing.

  “Will that work?” she asks. “Won’t they see your plane in the sky?”

  “They’re relying mainly on their radar. If I kill mine and you set up a fake signal for me, we should be good.”

  The scouts are speeding up, closing in on my signal. I’m far away from everyone else now, so if they take me down, there won’t be any collateral damage.

  “The destroyer’s signal is back online,” says Andy triumphantly. And there it is again, a beep on my screen, as if it never went down at all. “One more to go.”

  I’m getting closer to the canyons. A part of me is sad that I’ll be responsible for destroying some of them, but another part of me is relieved that there’s still something left on Earth to be destroyed.

  “Okay, got it,” says Andy. “You ready?”

  “Give me a minute.”

  “Are you sure this is gonna work? Their ships are indestructible.”

  “Damn it, Andy, how should I know? I’m a pilot, not an engineer.”

  The canyons are very close now. I speed up and head straight for them, the rock formations looming larger as I approach. It feels like I’m going to hit them. The scouts are close behind me, still pressing me, trying to corner me.

  The rocks get closer.

  And closer.

  I’m on them.

  “Now!” I shout as I bring the plane up and up toward the sky, coming so close to the canyon wall that it almost scrapes the belly of the plane.

  There’s a thundering noise as the two spaceships hit the wall, and I escape just as the structure collapses into a million pieces of rock. I turn on my stealth mode.

  “Keep the signal up,” I say to Andy. “Take it north. If they survived the rocks, they’ll go after it, thinking that they’re following me.”

  “Righto.”

  “I’m coming back around.”

  Over the intercom, I hear an explosion and an earsplitting scream that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. There’s a lot of indistinct shouting. I try to pinpoint a voice, one that can tell me what the hell is going on.

  “Avani?” I try. “Can you hear me?”

  More shouting.

  “We can’t get through,” says Brooklyn. “The ship is down, but not the weapons system.”

  “Can they see you?”

  A pause. “I don’t think so.”

  “Can you see them?”

  “Yep. Five total. One of them is outside the ship, gun at the ready.”

  My mind races. “Take that one first,” I say. “That’s the one we’re bringing back with us.”

  I can still hear shooting. They know that they’re under attack—they just can’t see it coming.

  I approach their position and can see the whole scene from my vantage point. The spaceship is wrecked, with one wing completely destroyed. Our team is spread out like tiny ants on opposite sides of the spaceship. And right in the center, a lone alien shoots randomly in one direction.

  “Two minutes,” I announce. “I’ll cover you.”

  “Roger that,” Violet says. “Prepare for fire!”

  I count to two minutes under my breath. My blood pulses fast through my veins. And then I position my plane and pull the trigger, like I’m in a video game.

  A round of bullets springs to life, and the noise is continuous as they pummel the ship, each bullet ricocheting against its hull and dropping to the ground.

  It’s enough of a distraction to allow the team to move in. I circle the plane above the scene, bringing it to the lowest speed without making it crash but still being able to be a part of the battle.

  Avani moves forward with Rayen and throws an electric disk that’s meant to electrocute the alien. The alien fires his gun without aim, and Rayen swerves away.

  “I’m a bad bitch,” she shouts. “You can’t kill me!”

  Rayen advances, throwing the disk. It hits the target, and the alien sways, its legs tangling as an electric spark works its way up its body. The alien drops its gun and writhes on the ground.

  Then Rayen aims her stunner rifle and even though I’m firing a hundred rounds per second, I can almost hear her shots.

  One, two, three.

  It goes down.

  Avani and Flint rush forward to carry it to the cryogenic chamber, but the window I’ve created isn’t enough to stop the other aliens from coming out of the ship.

  The odds have turned.

  “Shit,” Brooklyn says. “Cover Flint and Avani. They’re the priority.”

  I turn the plane around and fire again, but my bullets are useless. Rayen’s ammo is electrified, and each time it hits, the aliens jolt. My bullets make no impact, like it doesn’t even matter that they should’ve been tearing through flesh.

  One of the aliens drops its gun, and Rayen is quick to pick it up. Adam and Brooklyn move in, raising their own rifles. But their bullets seem to be as useless as mine. They’ve probably already wasted their own stun guns.

  “Damn it, Rayen,” says Brooklyn.

  “Aim right between the eyes,” Rayen shouts as she avoids another shot.

  The aliens are blinded. They seem to have lost their bearings and start huddling together, unable to see who is attacking.

  “Hold on,” I hear myself shout. “I have an idea.”

  “Your ideas are bad!” Flint somehow manages to shout back between gasps.

  “Do you want to make it out of here alive or not?” I ask stubbornly.

  There are groans, which I take as a yes.

  “Back off and take cover,” I t
ell them. “Three minutes until impact.”

  They don’t ask what’s about to happen—they just run. I circle around to give them enough time before the impact comes. I point the plane down and kill the engines, then pull the ejection levers.

  I don’t have time to think about the fact that I’ve never jumped with a parachute before. I don’t have time to think about anything before my seat is ejected backward with such extreme force that it feels like every bone in my body is going to break and my muscles are going to tear apart and split me open. I panic, but an instant later, the chute opens automatically.

  It all takes less than three minutes. I watch as the plane turns downward, falling directly toward the destroyer. I can feel the crash before it actually happens—the jet breaks nose-first against the spaceship.

  The rest of the plane crushes on top of it, burning red against silver as it comes undone in a smoky black cloud. The engines hit and the whole world goes red.

  I’m blown back by the explosion and the visor of my helmet flies up. Launching debris shreds my parachute. Burning-hot shards cut through my G suit and my face, and I taste blood mixed with traces of iron and gunpowder.

  It tastes disgusting. But it also tastes like freedom. Miraculously, my intercom survives, and there’s a faint buzzing noise in the background.

  “Go!” yells Violet. “The explosion has you covered.”

  I half hear her as I crash-land into the rocky ground, doubling over in pain as my body takes the impact and I roll to the ground. It takes a few seconds for my vision to clear as the thick smoke rises, filling my lungs with charred air.

  I pull off my helmet and hear a shot, and I know it isn’t from one of our guns. I raise my head, get up on my scraped knees, and look up to see the two jeeps driving away.

  Then everything falls apart.

  There’s one alien left, and Violet is standing right in front of it.

  The difference is obvious—even from here, I can tell that it can see her. It clinks its metal legs and raises its gun. I watch, paralyzed, frozen to the spot where I landed. The gun beeps.

  “Violet, get down!” I shout, but there’s barely time.

  The alien shoots, and I watch as Adam shoves Violet down and swings his rifle up.

  But the laser catches him in the side.

  A scream fills the air, and I don’t know where it’s coming from. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I’m the one screaming.

  One second he was there, the next he was only a cloud of dust.

  The alien looks around, then raises its gun again and heads toward Violet, who is still on the ground. I don’t even think as I rise and pull my grandfather’s gun from the pocket on the leg of my suit.

  I fire.

  Again and again and again, until the chamber is empty and I’m sliding another round of bullets inside.

  I move forward, my hands trembling, and I don’t stop shooting.

  Oh my God, Adam, I think. Adam is gone.

  Adam is gone.

  I’m running toward the alien now, still firing. Violet scrambles to the truck while I keep it distracted. It doesn’t fire back, and I can taste blood in my mouth as I fight to stay conscious.

  “Clover, let’s go!” I hear Violet’s voice near the truck, and then she grabs me, dragging me along and pulling me inside. She slams the door shut, hits the gas, and speeds away.

  Not Adam.

  Not again.

  I breathe hard, tasting the bitterness and feeling the ache in my throat. Then I let out the tears that I’ve been holding back for so long.

  Part III

  On Top of the World

  Chapter 32

  I’m supposed to be grateful.

  Grateful that I survived, grateful that we captured an alien, grateful that six of the others got out alive, too. We completed our mission. Instead I sit here, wondering if it was asking too much for Adam to have made it back here with us.

  It’s been three days. Avani and Flint have been down in the lab examining the thing, but I haven’t gone there yet. We’re all quietly mourning, not saying the words that we can’t seem to find anyway.

  My legs dangle from the parapet of the watchtower. I consider the fall from here. I’d probably break my neck. It wouldn’t be too painful.

  “I thought I’d find you up here.”

  Violet stands over the trapdoor. I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my jacket. I haven’t cried since Avani stitched me up when we first got back, but it feels like there’s always a lump in my throat. Sputnik, sitting outside under the shade of the watchtower, wags her tail when she spots Violet. But even Sputnik can feel that something is wrong.

  “Did you need something?” I ask.

  Violet shakes her head. I’m not sure what she’s going to do, but I won’t be able to bear it if she asks me how I’m doing. Instead, she swings her legs over the low wall and sits next to me.

  “I wish I could thank him,” she tells me. “I didn’t realize that they could see me. I thought… I thought that because the rest of you were safe, I was safe, too.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it does,” Violet says, turning to me. “I’m alive because Adam took the hit for me.”

  She goes quiet. Then, almost imperceptibly, she wipes a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. Knowing that we were invisible made us feel powerful, but we hadn’t tested the theory on Violet and Andy. It made us feel unstoppable. But we all forgot one thing.

  We could still die.

  I sit there looking at the horizon, not knowing what to say. Adam’s promise has stuck with me. He believed that he was going to return. He believed me, when I promised things that I couldn’t deliver. He believed in fighting back, and he died for it. Just when I’d told him the truth and he hadn’t turned me away.

  “It’s my fault, too,” I finally say, grinding my teeth. “If we’d stayed…”

  “If we’d stayed, we would be dead soon anyway,” Violet replies, turning to face me again. “We both knew the risks. Adam knew the risks, too. We all agreed to fight.” She swallows hard. “Before you arrived, I had everything prepared. In case they invaded. I had cyanide capsules in my room. I just thought that… It’d be less painful. That I could spare the others.” She pauses but doesn’t expect an answer. “But I couldn’t make that decision for them.”

  Violet shakes her head. Then she does the unthinkable—she presses her hand to my arm, squeezing it gently.

  “It’s not our fault,” she says. “I miss him, too.”

  Her words are comforting. The lump in my throat rises. My instinct is not to speak, but I’m tired of silence. I’m tired of not knowing how to bridge the gaps between me and the others. I take a deep breath.

  “Adam reminded me a lot of someone,” I say. “My ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t save Noah, but I thought maybe I could save Adam.”

  “Noah died in the invasion?”

  I nod. “I know Adam wasn’t Noah. I know that. And I know I couldn’t have done anything for either of them.”

  But there’s that lump in my throat again.

  I’m done with staying quiet. I can’t run away from my demons forever, because no matter where I go, they keep chasing me.

  “I wish I could’ve done something,” I say. “I wish I could’ve had more time.”

  All my wishes are given to the wind, blowing away as soon as I speak them. My wishes mean nothing now.

  “He was your friend,” Violet says. “He was mine, too. And he still will be. Even if he isn’t here.”

  She smiles at me, and I try to smile back.

  “We just have to find a way to keep going,” she finishes. “We can’t change the past.”

  I feel a tear falling down my cheek.

  “All we can do right now is miss him,” she says simply. “And thank him
for what he was willing to do for us.” She pats my shoulder and swings her legs back over to the watchtower floor, landing gracefully. “We need you downstairs. We still have a planet to save.”

  Chapter 33

  After my talk with Violet, I finally convince myself to head to the lab to see what’s happening. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I have to at least try. There’s a dark shadow over every face I see, but I know that everyone is trying to go on.

  It’s what Adam would have wanted.

  Sputnik follows me to the lab, blissfully unaware of how much has changed. She still chases the chickens around and finds a way to play with everyone. It’s a good distraction for us. It’s a chance to be more concerned about stopping the force of nature that is the Bernese mountain dog than about the fate of the world.

  When I get to the lab, Avani is just coming out of the cell, where the alien is being kept in its cryogenic chamber. She wipes her eyes quickly, but I know that she’s been crying.

  “Hey,” I say for a greeting. “Can I help you with anything?”

  She swallows hard. “I’m good, thanks.”

  “You sure?”

  Avani pauses for so long that I’m not sure if she’s ever going to answer me. I realize that in my own grief for Adam, I forgot the others. I forgot that Adam spent seven months here, seeing them every day. I arrived only one month ago, and it’s been painful enough for me. I can’t imagine what this has been like for them.

  “I’m so sorry, Avani,” I tell her. “You shouldn’t have to be doing this. We can just—”

  Avani wipes her eyes again. “I’m okay, really,” she says. “I want to be here. This is one of the only things I know how to do. This is the best way I can help.”

  I’m not sure what to say. I put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it. “You built this machine. You did better than all the other scientists out there. You figured out how to stop them, and you’re keeping that thing locked up.”

  She nods, slowly. “I know. I know. But I didn’t…” She looks away, shaking her head. “This is the least I can do now.”