When They Saw (When They Came Book 2) Page 15

  “You guys were lucky,” Taylor McKinney said.

  “We were,” Asha replied. “Cindy and Easton weren’t.”

  I sniffled, then, the tears which I thought had dried up beginning to come back to my eyes, and reached up to run my free hand along my face. Asha tightened her grip on the hand she was holding before spinning to face me. “Hey,” she said. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  “I got two people killed,” I replied. “How is everything supposed to be all right?”

  Asha didn’t respond. Rather, she stared me in the eyes, and appeared ready to lean forward to wrap me in a hug before a knock came at the threshold leading into the private room. Dubois appeared shortly thereafter in civilian casuals, her eyes tired and her face already worn for the worst. “Tell me everything,” she said.

  Asha helmed the story, and told it dutifully while I seated myself in a spare chair at the side of the room and cradled my face in my hands. I tried not to listen to the words—tried, without success, to keep from hearing the phrases we were attacked and Easton and Cindy were killed—but there was no use. I heard them anyway, and even though I wanted to cry—to sob and scream and throw myself to the floor in frustration—I didn’t.

  By the time Asha was finished, Dubois’ eyes were set firmly on me. “So,” she said. “It worked.”

  “Too well,” Captain Sin managed through a grimace.

  I shook my head and stood, ready to leave the room, but stopped as Dubois raised a hand to hinder my progress. “Stay,” she said. “We need to discuss what just happened.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss,” I replied, attempting to push past her. “I screwed up. Two people died. What more is there to say?”

  “That this was a potential risk we were well aware of when we organized this mission,” Commander Dubois said, pressing her hands upon my shoulders to weigh me in place. “Ana—this isn’t your fault, no matter what you might think.”

  “I couldn’t tell where They were coming from,” I said. “If I’d known They were going to ambush us—if I knew there were going to be more than one—then maybe… maybe…”

  I shook my head.

  No. I couldn’t say that. There was no way to tell if Cindy and Easton’s lives could have been saved if I’d known we were going to get ambushed. The events could have played out just the same. There’d been six of Them and only five of us. We’d been outnumbered, overpowered, ambushed in Their territory, where They had the upper hand. If anything, we were lucky to have gotten out with so many of us alive.

  Commander Dubois’ eyes softened as she looked onto my face—as she gently pushed me away and said, “We’ll be more careful next time.”

  “Next time?” Asha asked. “You can’t be serious.”

  “The Coyotes are a threat to public safety,” Dubois said. “If They can take down two of my most well-armed soldiers, who’s to say what They would do to an unarmed man or woman? Or even a child?”

  I could do nothing but stare.

  “Prepare yourself to go back out again tomorrow evening,” Commander Dubois said. “This time we’re bringing the cavalry.”

  The woman turned, parted the curtain, and left the room.

  “Ana?” Asha asked, pressing a hand against the small of my back. “Are you okay?”

  “I think I’m going crazy,” I said. “I could’ve sworn I just heard her say we were going back out.”

  “You did,” Sin said.

  I closed my eyes and let loose the tears I’d been so desperately holding back.

  All I could think to ask was: why me?

  Chapter 13

  I woke the following morning in the midst of a deep depression. With the knowledge that my actions had caused two peoples’ deaths clear in my mind, I rolled out of bed and made my way to the window, where I looked out at the city and tried to decipher the emotions I felt. The day was beautiful, with clear skies and no clouds in sight, and though I knew the sight should have brought me some relief, I couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that last night had been Cindy and Easton’s last.

  How could everything have gone so wrong, so horribly, so quickly? I could sense Them—could, with my conscience alone, determine Their whereabouts and even at times Their motives. That in itself should have been enough to ensure our safety. But no. We’d been attacked—ambushed, out of the blue—and two of our people had been killed.

  “Under my watch,” I mumbled.

  The soft rustle of the shifting sheets was enough to alert me to the fact that I had woken Asha. She didn’t immediately speak—as if she were expecting me to say something further—but when she did, she simply said, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I replied.

  “Are you okay?”

  I didn’t respond. Rather, I continued to stare out at the city—at the vacant streets where no more than ten hours ago a man and a woman had lost their lives.

  The pad of Asha’s footsteps across the carpeted floor entered my ears and caused me to tense before she even laid a hand on me. Her touch, gentle as it was, felt like fire—Hell in the purest of forms. Her fingers kneading my stiff muscles, however, was the final straw.

  “Could you stop?” I asked.

  She did, but not without offering a sigh which made me feel as though I’d done everything wrong. “You’re thinking about them,” she said, “aren’t you?”

  “How can’t I?” I asked.

  “You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

  “Dubois trusted me to bring our people back alive.”

  “Dubois sent you into the field when you had little to zero knowledge of your abilities,” Asha said. “You should be blaming her.”

  Should I, though? I mean, when I thought about it, it was she who had sent me out unprepared, she who had forced me to lead two people to their deaths. If there was anyone upon whom the blame should be laid, it should’ve been her. Yet no matter how hard I tried or how much I tried to rationalize it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault, and that was the worst thing of all.

  “We’re going back out tonight,” I said, “to eliminate the problem.”

  “And we can’t refuse,” Asha said.

  I shook my head.

  No. We couldn’t refuse. That I already knew—because no matter how much I wanted to walk to Dubois’ personal quarters and proclaim that I would not be going, I knew she would do nothing more than laugh at me. Tough luck, kid, she’d say. You’re in this for the long haul. Because the truth of the matter was: I couldn’t refuse her, not when I’d already promised to do anything to keep Asha and I safe and sound.

  In thinking on that, and in realizing that there was really little, if anything that could be done, I wondered: who would die tonight? Would it be me? Asha? Captain Sin? Or would it be one of the many other nameless soldiers who would be sent out with us?

  I didn’t know. I didn’t really want to know. I simply wanted to crawl back into bed—to retreat into dream or nightmare or whatever it was that awaited me—but I knew I couldn’t. I was too wide awake for sleep to even come and too guilt-ridden to even doze.

  After taking a moment to survey the streets where Easton and Cindy had lost their lives one last time, I turned to face Asha and found that she, too, was just like I was: afraid.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. “You already know that.”

  “We could run,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. Somewhere. Anywhere. You don’t have to do this for anyone, Ana Mia. Especially not her.”

  I knew that. I knew that for a fact. But the truth of the matter was: we were safer at Burgundy Hospital than we were anywhere else.

  Feral Coyotes.

  Crazed Reapers.

  Wandering Serpents.

  Insane men and women.

  All of these, and more, posed threats to us in this rapidly-changing world, and though I wanted nothing more than to be out f
rom under and free of Dubois’ rule, I knew that we couldn’t leave.

  With a sigh, I stepped into Asha’s arms and tightened my grip on her as much as I could.

  She held me, I held her.

  In the dawn of the new day, I prayed to God for the dead’s salvation, and for peace on Earth for those who had, fortunately or unfortunately, been left behind.

  We ate lunch in the cafeteria that afternoon, much to the bewilderment of those around us. It was obvious, from the way they were staring and the way they were whispering, that they were talking about Asha and I—two of the three who had survived. I tried to keep my attention on my tray as I picked at the meager servings of military rations and fresh fruits and vegetables, but found it almost impossible to do so considering that people were talking all around us.

  Did you hear? one person asked.

  I heard, another replied. Cindy and Easton died last night.

  But they lived.

  What happened?

  Isn’t that the girl who’s been abducted?

  Maybe she’s in league with the enemy.

  Maybe this, maybe that, maybe here or there or anywhere—I almost hurled my tray at the ground over the whispered accusations being thrown around, but forced myself to remain as casual as possible regardless of what was being said. Asha’s hand on my thigh was a reassurance, but not a deterrent, nor did it help when out of nowhere Mary-Anne appeared and placed her tray directly before me.

  “I heard what happened last night,” the girl said.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Asha said.

  “It’s fine,” I lied. “Really, it’s—”

  The girl seated herself directly across from Asha and I and began to pick at her food. The younger Dubois’ arrival did more to attract attention than either Asha or I could have, because soon, almost all eyes in the cafeteria were on us.

  “Ahem,” Asha said as she loudly cleared her throat. “Could you mind your own damn business?”

  Most everyone turned their gazes away shortly thereafter, leaving Asha, Mary-Anne and I to our own devices.

  “You really shouldn’t be here,” Asha said once more. “I don’t want your mother to come over here and start causing trouble.”

  “She’s not anywhere near here,” Mary-Anne replied. “She’s in our quarters, preparing for what’s to come.”

  “What’re you,” I started.

  “I wanted to warn you,” the girl replied. “Before she came and got you.”

  “About what?”

  “About tonight’s mission.”

  I waited with bated breath, and leaned forward as if Mary-Anne had the answers to all of life’s problems—which, at that moment, she pretty much did.

  The girl expelled a breath and stabbed at a piece of the military ration with her plastic fork. “You’re to go into the city with at least fifteen armed men and women and hunt down the last of the remaining Coyotes.”

  “Fifteen?” Asha asked, then waited for Mary-Anne to nod before following up by saying, “Holy—”

  “Yeah,” Mary-Anne replied. “My mother, she… she wants Them dead. Gone. Out of the picture. She thinks you—” she nodded at me “—are the best way to do it.”

  “Even after what happened last night?” I asked. “After… after…” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  Asha pressed her hand to the small of my back and kneaded the muscles there in an effort to calm me down. Instead, it only served to set me further on edge, which was why I quickly squirmed away from her touch and focused my attention on Mary-Anne.

  The girl—watching me with calm, blue and curious eyes—waited for me to say something, but at the same time, I was at a loss for words.

  Was her mother really that crazy? Was she really willing to risk more lives over a bunch of mindless animals who could probably be lured toward and then killed by either Joshua Banks or Tasha Stooges, the most capable sharpshooters in the facility?

  “Will she take no for an answer?” I asked, hope tugging at the edges of my heartstrings.

  “I don’t think so,” Mary-Anne said. “She’s already talking with Captain Sin—”

  “Who was severely injured,” Asha interrupted.

  “—and he’s agreed to the plan.” The girl sighed. “From what little of the conversation I caught before I snuck away, he didn’t seem too happy about it either.”

  Of course he didn’t. He’d nearly been scalped escaping from the hellish monsters.

  Rather than say anything outright, however, I simply nodded and began to pick at my food anew—knowing, without a single doubt in my mind, that there was absolutely no way for us to change this plan. Dubois, bloodthirsty as she was, wanted the Coyotes dead as soon as possible. It didn’t matter who died or what resources were expended.

  That woman—she was crazy. Absolutely, one-hundred percent crazy.

  “Anyway,” Mary-Anne said, standing, “I just wanted to let you know what was going on.”

  “Mary-Anne,” I said. “You don’t have to—”

  But the girl left before I could say anything further.

  “Let her go,” Asha said as I rose to follow. “She doesn’t belong with us anyway.”

  After settling back down beside my friend, I nodded, then closed my eyes.

  Maybe Asha was right.

  Maybe Mary-Anne didn’t belong with us. She was, after all, a Dubois.

  Rather than think about it, I turned my attention back to my food—knowing, the whole while, that it wouldn’t be long before I was summoned for my briefing.

  “Intelligence reports that the enemy,” Dubois said, “are most likely to be concentrated here.” She slapped her pointer stick to a map of downtown Austin.

  “Why there?” I asked, shifting in my seat. “It isn’t like there’s food to be found there.”

  “But past observations have shown the Coyotes to be attracted to wide, open areas where there were once high concentrations of people,” Dubois replied, turning her attention not only on me, but at the twelve other individuals that would be accompanying Captain Sin, myself and Asha on tonight’s journey. “Why we cannot be sure. Maybe it’s a result of Their training. Maybe They can determine, based on Their low level of intelligence, where people used to congregate.”

  “Either way,” Captain Sin said from his place in a chair beside Dubois, “all bets are out the window on how these Coyotes will react tonight. We, unfortunately, learned last night that They no longer operate on the same principles that They used to, which was placidity.”

  I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest as both Sin and Dubois’ eyes fell on me.

  “The plan is simple,” Dubois said—reaching for, and then slapping to the map, a simple outline of a red car. “You will board a Humvee and then deliver Ana Mia Sofia Berrios to the heart of the club district—formerly known as Sixth Street. You will then secure yourself inside one of the derelict buildings and wait for Miss Berrios to extend her consciousness out to the surrounding area. The monsters should come shortly thereafter.”

  “There won’t be much time to prepare,” Sin said, standing, but steadying himself with one hand on the wall. “We’ll have to break windows in order to create a perimeter, which means it will likely draw the attention of anything in the area—including Reapers, which have been known to wander the downtown area.” He paused, then, and looked at the men and women before him. “I don’t ask you to participate in this mission gladly. If anything, I wish there was an alternative.”

  Dubois growled.

  “However,” Sin continued, “we must also take into consideration the fact that these Ferals will eventually become desperate. They’ve already broken into Burgundy building B, as you all are now aware. It would only take a small number of these creatures to overwhelm us.”

  “What if we run into Reapers?” a woman asked.

  “Weren’t the aliens supposed to deal with Them?” another man questioned.

  “We were not given specific instruction on what would
occur in this area,” Dubois responded. “Like your captain said: we are facing a massive security threat as we speak. We cannot afford to waste time with pitiful questions and uninformed answers.”

  “Which means get down to the lobby, gear up, and make your way to the Humvees. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to get there before dusk falls.”

  The men and women of the Burgundy Hospital militia—which consisted of both volunteer militiamen and soldiers of the United States army—rose and began to make their way toward the doorway opposite where Asha and I sat. I, meanwhile, waited for Sin to approach before rising and offering him a short nod.

  “Are you ready for this, Berrios?” he asked.

  “No,” I replied. “But it’s not like I have a choice.”

  The man briefly glanced at Dubois—who watched the three of us like a hawk—before nodding. “No, soldier. We don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  As grim as that was, I had no choice but to face it.

  With one last nod, I turned and led Asha out the doorway, toward the lobby where, in various states of dress, men and women prepared for what was to come.

  A great nightmare awaited us.

  Whether or not we would live to see the coming sunrise I wasn’t sure.

  An approaching rainstorm brought with it an early evening that prevented us from reaching downtown before the sun fell. Thrust into perpetual darkness, the two Humvees—loaded to the brim with people—made their way from Burgundy Hospital and across the bridge that passed over Lady Bird Lake just as lighting began to strike the horizon.

  “How you holding up?” Asha asked.

  “Okay,” I said, unsure whether or not my word was a lie or just a well-disguised truth.

  “Can you feel anything? I mean, from here?”

  It was hard to say. The vehicle was moving at a steady pace of about twenty-five to thirty miles-an-hour. The background noise and hum of the tires upon the untended road blocked out most of what I might have been able to hear, but distantly I could sense something—an omen, I guess I would call it, of something dark, something malevolent. Whether or not it was my nerves getting the best of me I couldn’t be sure, but as we passed over the bridge and began to make our way toward downtown, the feeling got progressively worse, to the point where my stomach began to ball into a knot and my head began to throb.