“What?” Mandy’s face breaks into a huge smile. “It must be humans, then. Rescuers?”
We fall silent, listening as the thumping grows, becoming more familiar, more certainly something from the human world. When there’s no longer any doubt, Mandy, Emily, and Xander share a celebratory hug, Xander lifting the girls in turn and spinning them around. But Topher and I just look at each other. Do we dare hope? I’m not even sure this is what Topher wants anymore. As for Sawyer, his face is still fixed and emotionless.
“Gather your gear,” he says, picking up his rifle and heading to the chapel door.
EIGHTH
I’m not lost anymore, but I wish I were. I wish I could have stayed when she started to stir, but I didn’t want to scare her. So I hid nearby, watching, until one of the other humans took her away.
I’m concerned that he took her somewhere safe. The First and Third are unlikely to come back to finish what they started; this kind of work is beneath them. I’m sure they’ve noticed I’m missing, but of course they don’t care. If they could be relieved, they would be.
But others might come. This territory is designated for complete preparation. The darts are stockpiled by the thousand, by the million. I have what is in my rifle, about forty, and the six spares. But I doubt I’ll ever use them.
I can see quite far from up here. I can see the deep green trees poking out of silvery snow, and the river, like a thin snake winding through the bottom of the valley. I can see the burnt strip of forest where I first saw her as the river sucked her away. What strange forces made me go into that trailer, open that door, and find her again? It’s hard not to see some meaning there, but that’s ridiculous too.
I’m disconnected, so my thoughts drift into a more orderly state. But I can think only of the girl human and her friends. Did they get away? Did the high ranks come back? I’m sure I’ll stop obsessing eventually. And now that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do, I’m in no hurry. I’ll keep out of sight of her people and mine. I need a new plan, because I can’t go back to the mission. Not now.
You don’t have to do this.
I’ll pretend I don’t exist. Stay away from hubs, so I don’t get sucked in by new transmissions, ignore the buzzing directives and what they tell me to do. I can resist them. I know that now. I can hunt for food, melt snow for water, even make a little fire during the day. Sixth laughed at my fires, since we don’t need the warmth or to cook our food. But I like the smell and the color of fire. And I like making them and keeping them bright. I wish I could make one at night, but that might draw my people here, thinking I’m a human.
I’d rather not see any of my kind again. Perhaps I might even turn away from my reflection in puddles or my shadow on the snow. My distaste for all this is much stronger when I’m disconnected from the armor. It’s almost like being . . . something, something hidden, not remembered. Something that leaves a negative space behind it, where it used to be. Like the shape of Sixth on the crushed grass with the wings of blood. Like the feel of the little human in my arms and the smell of her hair.
Dandelion.
I’m a vile and terrible, monstrous creature who doesn’t deserve to live. What a relief to be able to think that properly, not having it sucked into the slime inside me and turned outward again, turned into hate for the humans. I refuse this mission. I refuse. If I can stay disconnected for long enough, I’ll be able to hang on to that. I won’t get drawn back to the others again.
There’s nothing complicated about the directives that flood my thoughts when I’m connected. Dart the vermin. Leave them where they fall. Move on. But as time passes, away from the hubs, without a fresh transmission, the directives have degraded to a low humming sensation. I’m starting to see them as separate from me. It could be the armor that’s vile, the monstrous armor and the slime that infuses my blood when I’m connected to it. Maybe I’m . . .
Defective.
I can reconnect only when I need to, when it becomes hard to breathe. But first I can sleep. I need sleep. I’m high up enough that I should be able to sleep for several hours, maybe even a whole night.
I know I’ll dream about the human girl. That’s how my half-ruined brain works. But that will stop eventually too. It won’t be so bad, not like the dreams about Sixth, I hope. I kind of look forward to the dream, as long as it’s not too scary. I look forward to seeing the human girl again.
RAVEN
The base appears in the snow haze as the helicopter slowly descends into a deep valley between two high mountains about a two-hour flight north from where they found us. At least I think it’s the base. From the air it looks like drifts of snow and piles of rocks, a railway track that leads from nowhere to nowhere and something that could be called a road if all cars were actually amphibious snow tanks.
“Why didn’t the Nahx shoot us down?” Topher asks. We’ve all been thinking it during the flight. Expecting it, even. Maybe wanting it.
“We’ve analyzed their patterns. They don’t spend much time in these remote areas, and when they do, they don’t come back for weeks,” says a skinny and pale young soldier sitting across from me. He introduced himself as Liam before we took off. “It was a risk, but we spotted your fires. We’ve been sending out spy drones at night. They look like owls. You might have seen them. They’re the latest technology. Don’t need GPS or anything. The Nahx haven’t got a clue.” His bluster gives me a strong next-to-die vibe, like he’s that guy in the movie who has to fly one last mission, or retires the next day. I wish I weren’t sitting right across from him, in range of any potential blood splatter or flying organs.
As if to increase my anxiety, Liam adds: “My mother is the base commander. We came out here after, you know, and she lets anyone who wants to, to serve. You guys look like you’d make good soldiers.” He sniffs a little too haughtily for my tastes. “Even you girls. With some training.”
Emily and I lock eyes. I happen to know she can take apart and clean a rifle faster than most people can blow their nose. As for her archery, she can hit targets I can’t even see.
“What’s your rank?” Sawyer suddenly says, with a dark expression.
Liam hesitates. “I don’t really have one,” he says. “Not yet.”
“That makes you a recruit. I’m a lieutenant. I outrank you, and I’m telling you to shut up.”
To his credit Liam mumbles, “Shutting up, sir,” before falling silent. Next to him, Xander’s head lolls to the side. He’s asleep.
We touch down quite far from anything recognizably manmade. Three other uniforms help us out of the helicopter.
“Where are we?” I ask.