Zero Repeat Forever (The Nahx Invasions #1)

I hear the noise again. This time I recognize it as the rusty creak of the swinging doors.

“Wait here,” I whisper, and tiptoe back to the end of the aisle. Poking my head around, I see the swinging door. Still. Nothing there.

I turn back to Sawyer. He’s grinning and shoveling olives into his mouth as I jog back to him.

“Anything?” he says with his mouth full.

“When we come back, we’ll need to post guards on that door.”

We reach the end of the aisle and are back in the front of the store. I look over to where we left Mandy. She’s not there.

My throat gets tight, and I grab Sawyer by the wrist and pull him back into the aisle.

“Where’s Mandy?” I whisper.

Sawyer puts the half-eaten jar of olives back on the shelf among some jars of baby food. He draws both his guns, and quietly, muffling the sound inside his jacket, clicks the safeties off.

I draw my own pistol and do the same.

“Under the chin,” I whisper, through teeth clenched with the effort of not chattering. Sawyer pokes his head around the end of the aisle and takes a look. He curses under his breath as he ducks back. We stand there, straining to hear. I hear footsteps crunching through the broken glass.

“Did we see any hidey-holes?” Sawyer whispers with a wry look. I shake my head.

“Can we get into the back room?”

Just then we hear heavy footsteps in the aisle next to us. I desperately want to call out Topher’s name, but I know better. Sawyer puts a finger to his lip and points down to the bottom of the shelves. I carefully slip down to the floor and turn to look under the small gap between the shelf and the floor.

There are four sets of Nahx boots there. I turn up to Sawyer, and the look he gives back to me is more apologetic than anything else. He points to me, then to the back of the store where the storeroom is. I shake my head, NO. He points to his shoulder angrily. He’s not properly uniformed, but if he were, that is where his lieutenant’s insignia would be. He points at me again, forcefully, then to the back of the store. I look at him and I suppose my eyes must show some acquiescence. Good-bye, he mouths. He holds up four fingers, three fingers, two, one.

I leap up and run in one direction while he runs in the other, yelling profanities at the top of his lungs. I slam through the swinging doors as I hear four gunshots and then the whine and thunk of three dart guns.

Then silence. Sawyer is dead, I think. I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears will blur my vision. I need my vision.

I press my back against the dirty wall. Looking to my left I see a small open door, behind which is a toilet. I’m not hiding in the toilet again. An exit is what I need. I poke my head around a tall shelf to the rolling door at the back.

It is now open, and a Nahx transport is parked in the loading bay.

My heart is pounding. How did they know we’re here? How did we not hear them? I don’t want to consider that it was the Nahx from the trailer. Maybe he has been following us all this time, leading us into a trap. I can’t think that.

I crawl back over to the swinging door and poke my head up to look through the grimy glass windows. There are no Nahx in my field of vision. None of my friends, either. Where are Topher and Xander? Did they find a hidey-hole on the other side of the store? Or another exit?

Run, I think. This is not the time to hide. I need to run back to the others. Find Topher first and get the hell out of there. This mission is a bust. Sawyer is almost certainly dead and so is Mandy, if she didn’t give the signal. The Nahx must have seen us coming. They must have been watching all this time.

Silently, I slip through the swinging doors, easing them closed so that they don’t squeak. Now I’m back in the main store. I poke my head into the aisle where I left Sawyer. It’s empty. I stand still, straining to hear anything. Down the end of the aisle I can see two more transports silently hovering outside the broken glass door. How can they be silent? I’ve heard their engines wailing before. This must be some kind of muffler or noise-canceling thing.

My eyes sting. Now I know I’m dead too; we all are. I edge my way along the back of the store until I can poke my head down the next aisle.

Sawyer’s body lies there, down the end, two darts in his chest and a pile of tumbled, broken jars around him. The smell of vinegar makes me nauseous.

At least he got to eat a few olives before he died is the stupid thing that pops into my head. The next thing I think of is Topher, and how losing him will feel. He’s not perfect, but he doesn’t deserve this. He should be searching for his parents, or back at the base shagging some willing girl. Or on his vengeance quest, at least, in Tucker’s name.

I tiptoe down the aisle to Sawyer’s body. He lies on his back, eyes open, staring at nothing, a pistol still clutched in one hand. My mind fills with dead friends: Felix, and Tucker, and Lochie, and Mandy. I’m never going to see any of them again. I’m probably never going to see anyone again. I pull one of the darts out of Sawyer’s chest, break the sharp tip off, and pocket it. This seems to make sense. I ease the safety back on his pistol and tuck it into my jacket.

Edging back, out of sight of the transports in the front windows, I walk the length of the aisle. It takes forever, since I have to move like a ghost to prevent the matches from rattling in my pockets. Every muscle is clenched with the effort of remaining silent. When I reach the top of the aisle, I hear the heavy footfalls of at least three Nahx. They are feet away from seeing me. Quickly, I lie down on the floor, facedown. At the last minute I pull the dart out of my pocket and wedge it under my neck. I close my eyes and hold my breath. Hopefully, there is more than one team in here. Hopefully, they don’t have some way to communicate who they have and haven’t killed. Hopefully, they won’t shoot me again for good measure, the way they did with Felix.

Now I know the meaning of hope. It’s what tethers you to the land of the living. Lose that and you die.

The heavy footsteps turn down the aisle. They approach slowly and stop above me. One of them nudges my thigh. I tense my neck muscles to keep the dart wedged. Everything inside me is screaming, praying they won’t notice that there are no black veins on my neck. I count to myself to keep from exploding. It feels like I’ve been holding my breath forever. Finally, the footsteps move away. I follow the sound of them to the far end of the aisle and exhale gently when they disappear. I lie there for a long time. It feels like an hour. Finally, I dare to open my eyes and move. I crawl down the aisle again, past Sawyer’s body, and peek out to the front window.

The transports are gone.

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