When They Saw (When They Came Book 2) Page 3

  “But I—”

  I shook my head, took hold of her arm, and dragged her inside. Once the door was closed and locked behind us, I turned to take note of her surroundings—most particularly, the window. It appeared she may have been in the process of jail-breaking right before I’d arrived. “Asha—”

  “I was trying to get away from here,” the girl replied, gathering the blankets off the floor and returning them to her bed.

  “You’re not Rapunzel,” I said. “And besides—what blankets you have would never get you to the ground.”

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” Asha replied. “So… I decided to do what I thought was best. Escape.”

  “By yourself?”

  The girl nodded. “I’d rather be out there alone in the world than trapped in here,” she said before stepping forward and wrapping me in her arms. “Oh, Ana. I’m so glad you came for me.”

  “There was a stipulation,” I replied.

  “What?” Asha asked.

  “That I keep doing what they ask me to do.”

  She merely stared.

  “I’m trying to keep you alive, Asha.”

  “This is no life,” she said, waving her hand about the room. “Yeah. It’s safe, it’s warm, and it’s secure. And yeah, we get fed, but it’s no life.”

  “Would you rather be outside and fending for ourselves?”

  “For the most part? Yeah.”

  I sighed, reached out to wrap her in another hug, and held her there for several long moments. When finally I pushed her away, I could see the toll the days of solitude had imposed upon her. Her eyes were a wreck, her nose and cheeks swollen from crying, her lips cracked from where she’d either licked or bitten them. She looked, for lack of a better phrase, completely horrible, and it was all because I hadn’t been able to do anything to help her.

  “Is there anything I can do for you while I’m here?” I asked, stepping back so I could give her the distance I felt she needed at that moment.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Get me out of here.”

  I had nothing to say in response.

  Asha, frustrated beyond belief, turned and stalked back toward the bed.

  “Asha,” I started.

  “Just go,” she said. “If you’re going to leave me to rot in here, you might as well start now.”

  Though I knew her words came from a place of frustration, they still hit and burned me to the core.

  Rather than try to reason with her, I simply muttered I’m sorry before turning and making my way out the door.

  Her scream as they locked the door behind me was enough to raise the flesh along my arms.

  Chapter 3

  I was scheduled to take part in guard duty during a time in which I felt as though my entire world was collapsing on top of me. Armed with a standard-issue rifle, a sidearm, and dressed within combat armor that made me feel as though I were fifty pounds heavier, I followed Captain Sin to the makeshift wall that had been erected across the visitor’s driveway just as the sun was setting and the distant specters of Coyotes were beginning to make Their presence known.

  “Do you normally have to deal with so many?” I asked.

  “No,” Captain Sin said. “We don’t.”

  They were coming in droves from both sides of the streets—drawn, instinctively, to the one place They knew there were humans—and were staring intently at the people who stood guard just outside the hospital’s front doors. Like at Fort Hope, They stood sentinel in the coming darkness—watching, waiting for anything to happen—and though I tried my hardest not to let my emotions betray me, I couldn’t help but feel as though I were an ant waiting to be crushed beneath a schoolyard bully’s shoe.

  With the ghost of Captain Frank Henshaw clearly in my mind and my previous training alight in my consciousness, I remained quiet and kept my gun trained on the creatures in front of me—hoping, to God and all His mercy, that They would not decide to breach through the barricades that wouldn’t even keep marauding dogs at bay. The derelict cars were too scattered, the concrete blocks and tires too low for comfort. Anything could jump over them if they wanted to, especially the Coyotes.

  Rather than think on those matters, however, I expelled a breath and waited for whatever was to come next.

  The Coyotes turned to look at me as one.

  At my side, Sin flipped open a lighter and lit a cigarette.

  The Coyotes turned to look at him.

  I tapped my foot.

  They looked at me.

  He expelled a breath.

  They looked at him.

  The synchronized movements, as eerie as they happened to be, was enough to assure my frazzled consciousness that They were not just focused on me.

  I sighed, allowing the breath to pool from my chest like steam escaping a locked vault, and turned my head up to the sky.

  Now that there were no lights to obscure the horizon, stars could be seen in splendid detail, constellations as if they were no more than a few feet away. Even the moon—normally obscured by cloud cover—was out and in glorious splendor. It was the one thing that kept us from being in complete and utter darkness.

  That, and the Coyotes’ eyes.

  I shivered, then, wishing desperately that I’d a coat to fight back the chill encompassing my being, and shifted my weight from one foot to the other in order to try and inspire warmth in my limbs. The nervous action was enough to draw the attention of one particularly-curious Coyote, who began to step toward the waist-high barricade I was arranged behind.

  Captain Sin raised his hand.

  Someone atop the roof aimed their weapon.

  A short moment later, a crack lit the night and the Coyote went down.

  The horde turned Their heads up to the roof for one brief moment before a pair of the creatures came forward to drag Their dead away.

  “What do you think They do with them?” I asked as I watched the pair and the corpse disappear into the crowd, then into an alleyway across the street.

  “I don’t know,” Captain Sin replied. “I’ve never stopped to think about that.”

  “It’s just… I don’t see why They would bother to carry Their dead off unless there was a specific reason.”

  “Maybe They eat them,” the captain offered. “Have you ever considered that?”

  No. I hadn’t. But now that he’d mentioned it, it made sense, as grizzly as it happened to be. I knew little about what the Coyotes did when They weren’t watching, when They weren’t searching, and though I’d always considered Them to be mindless drones, I assumed They had to eat and drink. That meant stopping to hunt, or forage, or scrounge through the memories of humanity for whatever trace of salvageable food They could find. But if They didn’t do this during the day, then when?

  I didn’t know. I didn’t particularly want to know. But I knew that if I were to continue living in this world—and if I were to survive in it as well—I needed to know everything I could about the aliens and what They were capable of.

  “Captain,” I said again, knowing that if I didn’t ask this question now I would likely lose the nerve completely.

  “What is it, Berrios?”

  “When Asha and I were making our way into Austin, we… saw something outside the city—an alien that looked like a human but really wasn’t, with white skin and sunken eyes.”

  “Ah,” the Captain replied, taking a drag from his cigarette. “The Reapers.”

  “The Reapers?” I asked.

  “The true nightmares of the Texas wasteland.”

  I waited for him to elaborate—for him to say something further—but when he didn’t, I frowned and drew closer, breathing in the scent of nicotine and cigarette smoke that plagued the air around the captain. When finally he looked at me, he sighed and said, “It’s only a theory.”

  “What is?”

  “That the Reapers are failed experiments conducted on humanity—castoffs from the Harvester ships that They couldn’t control. It would make sense,
considering They look so human, but you’ve seen Them. They have no sex organs, no distinguishing traits about Them. It’s as if They’ve been reduced to the simple makeup of a human and left to wander the world lost and alone.”

  “Why do you call Them Reapers?”

  “Because They kill indiscriminately—with violence reminiscent of a death bringer.”

  I thought of the deer and how easily it had been slaughtered—of the wounds I had seen in its body before Asha and I had run for the road—and realized, at that moment, that the two of us had gotten lucky. If these creatures really were as vicious as They sounded, it was a miracle that the two of us had escaped with our lives.

  “Commander Dubois said the Coyotes were the least of our worries,” I continued, unsure how to broach the subject now that newer, more frightening creatures had been brought up. “Did she mean to say that the Reapers are the true threat?”

  “It isn’t just the Reapers.”

  “No.”

  “It’s the Serpents, the Harvesters, and the Feral Coyotes that will attack without provocation.”

  “I know a little bit about the last one,” I said, looking down at my arm. “But nothing about the Serpents.”

  “Pray you’ll never see one, girl, because if you do, you’re likely to end up dead.” Captain Sin sighed as he dropped and then stamped out his cigarette. “That’s what happened when we went out on a supply run the time before last. Ran into one of those monsters. Cindy, Easton, Joshua and I barely escaped with our lives. The rest…” Sin shook his head.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I said.

  “Just know that this world isn’t as safe a place as Fort Hope used to be. You’ll come to learn that the longer you’re with our troop.”

  Rather than continue to press him on the matter further, I turned to look out into the crowd of Coyotes.

  All of Them were looking at me.

  I shivered, then, and decided that silence would be the best option.

  I slept throughout the morning and well into the afternoon, and only woke when a knock came at the door and roused me from sleep.

  “Hello?” a meek female voice asked. “May I come in?”

  I opened my eyes and tilted my head to the side to look at the glass window. There, I found a young woman—who couldn’t have been much older than me, if that—standing in the hall, holding what appeared to be a tray of food.

  “Yes,” I said, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. “You can come in.”

  I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and tried to disregard the fact that I was still in my pajamas as she opened the door and entered the room. Though I expected her to wait for me to address her further before she approached, the sound of her approaching footsteps told me otherwise.

  “My name’s Mary-Anne,” the pale-skinned girl with blonde hair and green eyes said as she set the bedside table and lifted her head to look at me. “I help the kitchen staff bring food to the soldiers after their shifts have ended so they don’t have to make their way down to the cafeteria.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking down at the military rations—which, though unappetizing, I wouldn’t refuse. “I really appreciate it. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything as a tip though.”

  “That’s not necessary. I just try to do my part around here.”

  “How long have you been helping out around the hospital?” I asked.

  “Since the invasion began,” Mary-Anne replied. “So… six, almost seven years now.”

  “Almost seven years,” I mumbled, mystified that time had moved so fast after the events that had transpired at Fort Hope. I blinked to clear the daze of confusion over my vision and focused my attention back on the girl. “What day is it anyway?”

  “October thirteenth.”

  “Almost Halloween,” I said with a smile.

  “Yeah,” the girl mumbled. “The kitchen staff has been working hard to try and come up with recipes so the little kids can go trick-or-treating. It’s mostly just apples, strawberries, vegetables—whatever our scavengers can pull out of the gardens they try to maintain around the city.”

  “There’s standing gardens?” I asked.

  Mary-Anne nodded. “Uh huh. They were started by the people who lived in the city before the invasion happened to try and help the less fortunate eat better. There’s one right near Burgundy Hospital, just by the river. There’s trees, bushes, a small field.”

  “It sounds great.”

  “Yeah,” Mary-Anne replied. “It does.” She reached down to adjust the hem of her blue skirt with white polka dots and stared at the ground—unable, or unwilling, to face me now that the conversation had died down.

  Frowning, I reached out to take the tray of food and began to pick at the meager portions upon it, expecting the girl to leave now that our dialogue was done. When she didn’t, however, and when I lifted my head to find her staring at me, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more to her behavior.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “No,” the girl said, then swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m not used to seeing soldiers who are so young.”

  “I’m not a soldier,” I replied. “Just a Guardsman.”

  “A what?”

  “A volunteer,” I said, rather than try to explain the situation and risk dredging up painful memories.

  “Oh.” The girl paused and looked down at the ground, once more avoiding my eyes. She then turned and began to retreat toward the doorway.

  “Mary-Anne,” I said, clearing my throat to draw her attention back to me.

  “Yes?” the girl asked.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” I stood, then crossed the short distance between us so I could extend my hand out to her. “My name’s Ana Mia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “It… is,” the girl replied, taking hold of my hand.

  Her weak grip startled me—to the point where I almost stopped squeezing her hand and drew my own away.

  Was she sick? She didn’t look it—at least, not physically—but I knew there were a multitude of illnesses that could masquerade themselves from the naked eye.

  When I felt my touch had lingered too long, I drew my hand away and forced a smile to try and ease the tension in the room, though by this rate it’d already grown to a fever pitch and was likely palpable and able to be cut with a knife.

  “I guess I’ll leave you be now,” the girl said.

  “Mary-Anne,” I said. “Would you be willing to help me out with something? That is, if you’re not too busy after you’re done with your work this afternoon?”

  “Sure,” the girl said, her eyes brightening for the first time since I’d met her.

  “Would you be willing to show me around the hospital? I don’t know my way around and could really use the grand tour.”

  “I can do that,” Mary-Anne replied, a slight smile parting her lips to reveal well-tended white teeth. “I can do that. Just give me… say… fifteen minutes to finish up? You were one of the last on my list.”

  “All right,” I said. “See you in fifteen.”

  I watched the girl turn and walk out of the room with the knowledge that I would soon know the inner workings of the hospital—and, hopefully, the routes the guards took on their nightly patrols.

  I needed to speak to Asha—alone, in private, and without the constant supervision of the guards.

  If my gut feeling was any indication, something bad was about to happen. I was sure of it.

  Mary-Anne took me through the heart of the building and through its many winding halls, showing me the various offices and homes of the military force, civilian population, and working staff that inhabited the hospital. This included, but was not limited to: the nurse’s quarters, which I’d already seen; the cafeteria, which was huge and packed with people by the time we arrived; the exercise room, converted into a sleeping quarters; and the operating and emergency room, which were filled
with a plethora of vacant generators and supplies that would be used only in the most dire of circumstances.

  By the time we finished, I was emotionally, and physically, exhausted. My legs burned from the effort of having walked almost the entire hospital and my head swam with thoughts of how I would manage to remember all of this come time night fell and I tried to fake my way out of guard duty.

  “Hey,” Mary-Anne said, reaching out to touch my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile even though I knew it would be seen as fake. “Just a little tired is all.”

  “Do you want me to take you back to your room?” the girl asked. “I can, if you want to. I mean, if you don’t want to hang out with—”

  “Mary-Anne,” I laughed. “It’s okay. Really. I want to hang out with you.”

  “You… you do?”

  I nodded. This time the smile that came was genuine. The girl seemed to take note of that, as she, too, smiled back at me, revealing once again the teeth that were so white I feared my own were stained after having not brushed for what felt like weeks on end.

  “Something wrong?” Mary-Anne frowned.

  “I was just admiring how white your teeth were,” I said.

  “Do you need a toothbrush? Because I can get you one. All we have to do is go down to the nurse’s station. They have all of that readily available for everyone.”

  “I’ll go myself later,” I said, then sighed, brushing my hands along my sides until they came to rest in my pockets.

  This time when Mary-Anne frowned, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out of the declaration that was to come next. So, rather than put it off, I cleared my throat and said, “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  Did I? I wasn’t sure. I wanted to tell someone about everything I’d gone through, but I wanted that to be Asha—not some stranger I had just met an hour-and-a-half beforehand. Mary-Anne, while pleasant, was still unknown to me, a pariah upon my jaded conscience and an intruder into my personal midst. I couldn’t just spill my heart out to her. I didn’t know who’d she tell, if anyone.