At the End - a post-apocalyptic novel (The Road to Extinction, Book 1) (28 page)

The globe penetrated the barrier.

The world of blue shattered, evaporating
into nothing. Bullets resumed launching from the alion gun.

Black globes suddenly riddled the alion.
Blood sprayed everywhere. My faced dripped with the horrific
crimson, mixing with my sweat. My stomach wanted to shoot out my
mouth, but I battled it back down, calming my nerves. I swallowed.
The metallic taste of iron engulfed my tongue. I spat. A few coughs
rattled my chest, and I spat a couple more times, clearing my
throat afterward.

I didn’t want to faint, so I slapped myself,
but that didn’t help at all. My heavy eyes closed, and I was
swimming in summer’s warmth. When I opened them, the walls blurred,
and were too fuzzy to make out with any distinctions. I reached,
but there was nothing within grasp, and I collapsed to the
grating.

I rolled over.

Hours passed before my vision cleared. Or
maybe it had only been minutes. I sat up, holding my knees,
breathing deep and slow. The dead alion lay a meter or two away.
Its blood had pooled, now motionless and shiny, reflecting my face
back to my eyes. I hated what I saw. Everything about me now
screamed of enervation. If the alions didn’t kill me soon, my own
weariness would.

My stomach rumbled.

I clutched the sides of my gut. Those cheese
crackers had done nothing to ease my hunger pangs. I ran back to
the stockroom and grabbed a few supplies, uncloaking and cloaking
again. Returning to the torture room proved much more difficult
than the last time I navigated from the dining hall. The halls
looked different, with my memories faded instead of fresh, and I
stumbled around each corner, surprised by every terrible sight
reminding me I was on an alion spaceship.

Finally, I chanced upon the room. Penelope
lay in the same place. Three alions now worked, fiddling with
bodies, using strange instruments, touching screens to input
calculations and adjust the angle of dozens of mechanical arms
hanging from the ceiling.

Every other minute a bold nerve struck, and
I was centimeters from jumping into action, on the verge of dashing
into the room to scoop Penelope off the table and make a break for
the exit at the other side of the room. But then another nerve
pulsed within, a cowardly nerve, and I stood stock-still,
staring.

If only I could freeze the ever-shifting
laser that monitored the room. If I could put it in stasis like the
people in the pods . . . or the blue cloud . . .

I spun around and headed back to the dead
alions. I left a trail of cheese crackers off to the side of each
hall. Whether or not any alions could see them, I didn’t know, and
I pushed the consequences out of my mind of what would happen if
they did.

I found the stockroom, unwashed and
unnoticed by any alions. I ran for the second alion and its
bazooka. Strapping it across my back, adjusting it tight, I
uncloaked and cloaked, sprinting to rescue Penelope.

The cheese cracker trail made it ten times
faster on the way back. I passed a few alions, but they paid me no
heed, as if I didn’t exist. I went to the room where I had climbed
up a pod to stash the water in the duct. I left everything behind
in the duct, carrying only the bazooka to the torture room.

The alions used both of their humanlike
hands to fire the blue stasis-orbs, so I hunkered down to a knee,
bracing myself by tightening all my muscles. I placed three fingers
on the giant trigger. Courage waited for its moment to burst
through my veins; it waited a good long while, as my eyes tracked
the yellow line.

I pulled back.

A stasis-orb launched at the scanner. Within
a blink, it was trapped in suspension. I adjusted my aim to the
closest alion and fired. The second and third alion were snared an
instant later, blue lightning bolts striking into their furry
bodies. I swung the bazooka to my back, using the soft straps. I
tightened the straps until they pinched my skin.

When I ran for Penelope, no sensor gave away
my position, or alerted the dining hall full of alions to my
presence. The buckles that held her down were difficult to undo,
and the faster I tried to go, the longer it took, as the
uncooperative buckles fought against my trembling fingers. The eyes
of the alions seemed to stare directly at me. I had no idea how
long the stasis cloud lasted, but with every passing second, my
nerves told me they would fail soon. The straps released after a
dozen CLICKS, and I snatched her up, huffing as I raced out of the
room.

My muscles were too fatigued, and too weak
at that, to push her into the duct. I searched for one of the
square, padded rooms with a table, coming upon one three hallways
later.

I laid her on the table. Her closed eyes
darted all around underneath her lids. She looked as if she were
dreaming about something pleasant. I waited as time passed at a
rate slower than my mind could take. Agitated, paranoid, and
afraid, I twitched while I paced from wall to wall.

My gaze never left Penelope.

Then suddenly, she coughed, bringing herself
upright at the waist. She gasped. “What the—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said, running to
her side. “You’re okay now.”

She swung her feet over the table.
“Darrel?”

“I’m here,” I said. “I’m here for you . . .
Oh, right.” I realized she couldn’t hear or see me, so I pressed
the button to uncloak. “See me now?”

“I can’t believe . . .” she started.

I threw my arms around her in an embrace,
squeezing. “I got you out. You’re okay.” My words were more for me
than for her. I needed comforting.

“There was a cloud . . . I was trapped.” She
stuck out her hands. “I couldn’t move.”

Our eyes met. “I know. I was in one too. But
we’re okay now. Can you walk?”

She hopped down and took a few steps. “I
feel pretty drained. Do you have any water or food?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I stashed some supplies in
the duct.” I grabbed ahold of her hand. “Do you think you can
climb?”

“Maybe,” she said. Her voice sounded
worried. “I’ll have to try.”

I led her to the corridor where I had marked
the pod I used to climb into the duct system. “The supplies aren’t
far from here,” I said. “I’ll push you when you’re ready.”

She nodded, though her eyes looked sedated,
as though she were about to collapse. She gripped the thick plugs
that attached to the pod, climbing up until she met the ceiling
panels. I had jumped and popped up a panel before she began her
struggle ascending the pod. Once her fingers clutched the panel’s
frame, I boosted her the rest of the way, grunting and panting.

I slipped as her legs left my hold.

She peeped over the edge. “You all
right?”

“Yeah,” I said, staring up at her. “I’m
fine. Loss my balance is all . . . I’ll be up in a minute. You
should see the food to your right.”

She smiled and retreated into the duct.

I gathered my breath. The effort had winded
me after all the running and walking, all the pacing and worrying.
It all took its toll. I clambered to my feet and headed up the pod
when I figured enough of my strength had returned. Replacing the
panel and tossing the bazooka aside, I lay down on my back,
recuperating again.

“You need some sleep,” she said. Her lips
smacked as she chewed down a piece of salted meat.

I hoped it wasn’t human muscle, but I didn’t
say anything; I knew she would throw it away at the thought, and we
desperately needed it to survive. “Yeah, that’s certain.” I
groaned, rolling over and pushing myself up on my knees. “Could you
hand me the water?”

She offered me the bottle. “What happened?
You said you rescued me . . . what did you rescue me from? Did they
put me back in a pod?”

Taking the bottle, I shook my head. “Nope.
They laid you out on a slab to experiment. They were torturing
people in the room . . . but I got you out.” I nodded, my body
rocking. “I got you out.”

“You all right, Darrel?”

“Probably not. I don’t think too many
people, if any at all, have seen what my eyes have taken in over
the last few days.” I set the bottle down with a CLINK. “There was
a monitoring laser in the room, to detect intruders, at least I
guessed as much. I killed an alion with one of those bazookas.” I
pointed to the silver tube. “It was all luck, but I did it, somehow
. . . anyway, I froze the laser, along with a few alions. That’s
how I got you out . . .”

She stared at the bazooka. “Wow . . . just
wow,” she said. “I can’t believe you did all that for me. You
didn’t—”

“It was my fault,” I cut her off. “It was
all my fault. I went up into the duct first. You went first all the
other times, but not that time . . . it was my fault, I’m a
coward.”

She crawled over to me, wiped away the tears
that had started to moisten my cheeks, and smiled at me. “You’re
not a coward, Darrel,” she spoke softly. “You saved me, remember?
Would a coward risk their life like that?”

I sniveled. My nose filled with globs of
snot.

“No,” she answered her own question. “No,
they wouldn’t.” She held me, laying me back to the floor. “You need
to rest. Take it easy.” Behind me, she curled up, becoming the big
spoon.

Penelope rolled over. Her hand slipped from
my stomach and pinched my side.

Startled, I jumped awake. I turned and
looked at her. Her eyes were still closed, and her slack mouth hung
open, exhaling long, deep breaths. I slid down the grating until I
could crawl without disturbing her body. I ate some of the meat.
The salt bit at my lips and the inside of my mouth, while
increasing my desire for a drink by tenfold.

Bottle in hand, I sipped twice and set it
down, painfully aware of the amount remaining. I wasn’t going to
repeat what I had done before. My fingers shook in self-control;
thirst gnawed at my nerves. “I don’t need it,” I whispered. “I
don’t . . .”

“You don’t need what?” Penelope asked.

“I don’t need to drink all the water,” I
explained. “I want to, but I don’t need to.”

“If you need more—”

“No. No, I’ll survive. I think you need it
more.” I handed her the bottle.

She accepted it and drank her fill. “So, is
getting the hell off this ship still on the agenda for today?” She
smiled at me.

It was great to see her smile; it filled me
with warmth that tingled all throughout my body. “I hope so.” I
smiled back.

“They took everything I had, including my
cloaking device,” she said. “What are we going to do about that?”
She dug a hand into the box of cheese crackers.

“I could scout the ship by myself,” I said,
but before I could finish, she was already shaking her head.

“No, they know we’re using the cloaks. They
might have scanners that can detect us.”

“They might not,” I blurted. “You never
know.”

“Too dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than you walking around
without one,” I said.

“Without one, you’re cautious,” she said.
“And with one, you might get too comfortable, you know, your guard
drops.”

“So, what do we do?”

She chomped down on the golden crackers. “We
should just go together,” she suggested. “If they don’t detect you,
at least you’ll get away.”

“In that case, you should wear it.” I
loosened the straps to the device. “You should get rid of your . .
. your . . .”

“My what?” Her brow furrowed. “Oh, right. My
underwear.”

I blushed. My face grew so hot; it was
almost as if I had eaten a habanero.

She grinned at me. “I take it you’ve never
talked about a girl’s panties before. They’re the same as yours,
I’ll bet. Only a lot smaller.”

“Okay,” I stuttered. I cleared my
throat.

“You all right? They’re just words.”

“Uhrm. Fine . . . I’m fine.”

She laughed. “Well, okay then. I’m going to
go around the corner, I’ll be right back.”

I nodded. As she left, I breathed in deep,
letting out a lengthy exhale. I finished stripping the cloaking
device off my body.

“Hopefully that’s good enough,” she said,
appearing from around the corner.

I smiled a red-cheeked smile. “Uhrm. We
should just crawl in the ducts until we find a hangar bay.” I
definitely could have used my inhaler right then, but I had to rely
on keeping control of my breathing.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.”

I handed her the alion gun when she neared,
grabbing the bazooka for myself. Penelope strapped on the
invisibility harness, but forwent cloaking since I couldn’t see her
if she did. We started another long journey on our hands and knees.
In every new duct we entered, we stopped and scoped out what lay
beneath us, but all of the rooms were either living quarters or
rooms with pods.

When my knees became good and sore, we
stumbled upon a room storing water supplies. I lowered Penelope
down—cloaked—and she filled up the bottle. The guards paid her no
mind, though one of the two stopped for a second to take in a long
sniff, but after it assessed its quality, it continued pressing
images on a display.

The ceiling was low enough that she could
jump and catch my arm. It took all I had, but I hoisted her up,
heaving with a thousand puffs. We rested awhile and I dozed
off.

“Hey,” she whispered, poking my
shoulder.

I heard her muffled speech, dulled in my
head, as if it were coming from across a ballroom.

She poked me again. “Hey.”

I sat up straight, my heart pumping,
shocked. Gasping, I stared at her.

“It’s all right, it’s just me,” she said
reassuringly. “Sorry to wake you, but we should get going. I’m
itching to leave.”

I nodded. “Oh, I know. I’m just so tired all
the time. This place is draining my life.”

“All the more reason to hurry up and make
our escape.” She smiled as she handed me the water bottle. “Ready?”
she asked when I capped the bottle.