The Harvest (34 page)

“We’d better mimic them,” Shane whispered, a
tremor in his voice. “We have to get inside that ship.” As
realistic as the simulations had been, he was more confident before
seeing the actual vessel towering in front of him.

He adopted the expression of the entranced
kids around them, slumped shoulders, a loose jaw, and eyes wide
open. The sky grew darker, the last of the sunlight fading. The
three massive pyramidal ships emitted a soft, yellow glow,
illuminating the necropolis. He wondered how Kelly was doing with
the Australian team at their pyramid, resisting the urge to break
off from this crowd and run to try to find her. Something told him
she was safe, at least for now.

There was a loud whoosh, like a seal being
broken. An opening the width of the side nearest them formed on the
bottom edge of the ship, rising from the ground.

The hull flowed upward, revealing the stark,
white interior that looked like it belonged to an ancient Greek or
Roman palace. In the center, the wide escalator rose up to the city
somewhere high above. This ship was so much bigger than the ones
they’d trained in. Its city must be like the capital of this armada
and in proportion with the vessel’s size. No doubt its coliseum
would put the others to shame. Faces peered down off the balconies
and over the railings, hundreds of Anunnaki looking out at the
kids. Shane imagined those same faces sitting in their flying
stadium, laughing and cheering as they looked down upon the slaves,
who they forced to fight to the death. His anger boiled.

Most of them wore white clothing and some
even had on togas like the statues adorning their courtyards. Such
an odd garb for these advanced space travelers, though it did fit
the interior design of their ships. It struck him that the marble
inner pyramid of the vessel could be equated with Mount Olympus,
and he reckoned these bastards must think of themselves as gods.
The alien spectators pointed and chattered with each other,
appearing excited about the human livestock gathered on the sand
below.

Soldiers in red armor holding plasma rifles
across their chest lined the lowest terrace of the inner pyramid
and spilled out on either side of the opening, contrasting sharply
with the white and gold. Most of these soldiers had no emblems on
their armor, indicating they were lower ranking Anunnaki. Shane
spotted a couple of the elite Shock Troops, which Jones had warned
them to avoid. With only his jeans, T-shirt, and no gun, he felt
vulnerable and weak. Glancing at his team, he tried to convey this
was the most delicate part of their mission. They couldn’t be
discovered, at least not until they got hold of some weapons.

A distinguished looking Anunnaki man with
silver hair rode the wide escalator down from higher parts of the
ship, stopping thirty feet above the crowd. Shane could see his
face looked much younger than his hairstyle let on. Most of the
spectators appeared to be of similar age as Lily and Jones, around
thirty years old. Of course, he knew the rebels had crashed on
earth well over twice that many years before. Just how old they
were, he had never really speculated. For all he knew, they might
be hundreds of years old. Older. The spaceman’s gold cape caught
the desert wind and floated out beside him. Otherwise, he was clad
in white pants and a long-sleeved, white shirt.

“Kneel,” he boomed.

The kids who weren’t on their knees dropped,
their eyes cast down as if they suddenly feared looking upon these
supposed gods who would turn them to stone. Although it disgusted
him to do it, Shane copied them.

“Rise.”

A shuffle of commotion erupted across the
crowd, everyone coming to their feet. And then total silence
pervaded.

“Kneel,” the alien ordered once again.

It was a test. If someone didn’t do what they
were told, the slave gene must not be working in that teenager.
Then the Anunnaki soldiers would dispose of them. Thousands of kids
dropped to their knees once again.

“Rise.”

Everyone snapped to their feet and stood
motionless, staring up at their Anunnaki master. There was applause
and cheering from the spectators on the ship. Shane’s hands started
to close into fists. These aliens had no respect for humans, were
looking down on them like they were property and not people. He was
to be the one to teach them some manners, and he couldn’t wait to
get started. Forcing himself to relax, he took a deep breath. He’d
have to keep his anger in check for a while longer.

“Enter,” the alien said, pointing at the ramp
that led into the recruit processing chambers deeper in the
vessel.

The slaves crowded forward. While maintaining
a stupefied expression, Shane pushed through them. His people had
to get on with the first recruits. All the teams needed to make it
to the reactors around the same time, and his had the biggest ship.
If the others destroyed theirs first, the Anunnaki might stop
taking in recruits.

Shifting his eyes, he saw Steve and Tracy
weaving their way forward on either side of him. He couldn’t risk
looking back to make sure the rest followed. His mind, so freshly
stuffed with useful information, was analyzing every aspect of the
scene around him, assessing threats and preparing responses. It
seemed like an automated process, running in the background of his
thoughts, his neural upload and the training doing its job. Though
he was afraid and worried about Kelly and his teammates, he also
felt confident and lethal. After making it to the ramp that
ascended into the ship, he fell into one of the many lines forming
there.

Unlike the stiff alien soldiers, who held
their guns across their chest and motionlessly studied the slaves
through the tented glass of their V-shaped visors, the “citizens”
who watched from the safety of the higher balconies made a lot of
noise. It sounded like they were having a party, perhaps
celebrating the apparent conquest of the human race. In the
periphery of his vision, he could see some of the white-clad
spectators leaning over the rail, pointing at the passing slaves.
Were they picking out the ones they wanted to buy? Planning fights
for their coliseum? The scene made him want to crush them even
more. These smiling aliens were responsible for the horrific deaths
of his aunt and father. Although the thought of violence and of
killing turned his stomach, he wanted to make them pay for what
they’d done and stop them from the terrible things they planned to
do.

The silver-haired orator stood above on the
idle escalator, and Shane sensed he scrutinized every slave passing
beneath. He couldn’t wait to be out of his gaze, fearing something
would give him or his team away. When he was directly below, it
felt like the Anunnaki’s attention fixed onto him. He had to make
an effort to keep the expression of relief off his face when he
passed into the gray holding chamber and out of the alien’s
view.

Shane exhaled, realizing he’d barely breathed
since mounting the ramp. He had to be more relaxed. Along with
thousands of other teenagers, he crowded into the large room like
cattle at the processing plant. His line walked halfway across the
metallic floor and stopped, standing stiff and tall, soldiers at
attention. By the change in their posture and the hardening of
their expressions, he guessed the aliens were already programming
them and began acting accordingly.

His peripheral vision soaked up everything
around him. Running through the woods and dodging the others in
flag-capturing games had sharpened it. He had a sudden fantasy of
what it would be like to play football with his senses all tuned up
like this. Plus, he was more physically fit than he’d ever been in
his life. Hopefully, once this all was over, he’d have a chance to
find out.

Up near the ceiling, black spheres floated,
studying the teens. The inhabitants of the ship were gathered
around monitors, watching video recorded by cameras inside the
spheres, and congratulating themselves for the fruitful crop. Or
perhaps they were looking for the ones like Shane and his friends,
those people who were not under their control. He made sure his
eyes stayed straight forward, worried about the multitude of things
that could give them away.

His back ached from standing so stiffly, and
he found limited relief when his line moved forward every couple of
minutes, making its way across the room. To his sides, he could see
Steve and Tracy in lines of their own. There was nothing to do but
have faith that the rest of his team was just behind them.

He pitied the controlled kids. They were
oblivious to the danger that lay ahead, clueless to the fact that
their free will was stripped away and soon they’d be made to fight
each other, to kill each other as a way to weed out the weaker
ones. Shane hoped he wouldn’t be forced to take any of their lives.
It was bad enough to kill criminals out of self-defense, but these
kids didn’t have a choice. And he guessed many of them were regular
teens who were trying to survive and recover from losing their
parents when their slave genes took over.

It took half an hour for him to cross the
chamber, the constant scrutiny from the cameras floating above
keeping him on edge. Although he doubted any of them could win an
Oscar, his team’s ability to mimic the enslaved teens was
apparently good enough. Soon, they stood at arched openings leading
into the next phase of the processing plant. Shane knew this was
where they would be given their armor and weapon. He also knew
they’d be eyeing the recruits even closer in this chamber than at
any other stage.

Kelly
moaned, gritting her teeth and breathing deeply to recover from the
shock of being hit. Carefully wrapping her right hand around the
sticky, wooden handle of the spear, she gave it a tug and screamed
at the shockwave of pain.

The tip of the dirty kitchen knife was lodged
firmly in bone. She was lying on her back, with the spear handle
leaning against the hood of a car. While she was in an enormous
amount of pain, she’d been hurt so much during training that she
was able to keep her head. Bile filled the back of her throat. She
swallowed hard to keep from vomiting, terrified at the agony the
convulsions would cause her. She had to get it together and remove
the spear from her shoulder.

The Aussies and Jules were standing above
her, fighting off skin-faces. They were trapped in the alley and
far outnumbered. She feared the skin-faces would soon overrun them.
They’d finish her off, and she wouldn’t have a chance for revenge
against the Anunnaki, wouldn’t be able to save Nat. A barrage of
gunfire echoed between the buildings, and Kelly expected her
friends to drop dead.

Not a single one joined her on the ground.
They held their weapons pointed toward the skin-faces who’d chased
them into the alley, seeming unconcerned about those who’d entered
from the other side.

Unable to endure being out of the fight for a
moment longer, Kelly huffed for air and built her courage. She
wrapped her hand tightly around the spear handle, screamed, and
jerked with all her strength. Dislodging from bone, the knife came
free. The spear bounced on the ground near her head. Her scream
faded to a tormented groan, and she rolled to a fetal position.

As the pain dulled, she perceived the alley
had fallen quiet.

“Kelly?” Jules squatted beside her, putting a
gentle hand on her back.

“I’m okay,” she said weakly.

“If that’s okay, then you’re the baddest of
the bad asses,” Jules replied. “Let me help.”

“No, it’s not as bad as it looks.” As much as
she tried to sound normal, her voice didn’t hide the discomfort she
endured.

She wasn’t ready to be helped. This injury
couldn’t stop her from completing the mission. Pushing off the
bloody spot where she’d fallen, she slowly rose to her feet. She
blinked away the spots in her eyes and reached for the memory of a
conversation she’d had with her mom years ago. Her mom revealed to
her that girls were much tougher than guys, warning it was a fact
that guys hated being reminded of. There was nothing else overly
special about the moment, but it was one of those cherished
memories that had gotten her through hard times on more than one
occasion. She clung to the memory, gleaning strength from it.

Her clearing vision revealed a crowd of armed
kids behind the Aussies. They didn’t have on masks and looked
normal except they all grinned blissfully and in an almost
stupefied way. Apparently, they were with it enough to fight off
the skin-faces, who were all run off or sprawled across the hoods
of cars, riddled with bullet holes.

“Come with us, brothers and sisters,” a boy
near the front said in Arabic. “We go to meet with angels.” He
looked at Kelly, sincerity in his eyes. “You will be healed
there.”

These kids were clearly under the influence
of the Anunnaki, on a pilgrimage to the necropolis to surrender to
the aliens. When they’d landed in Cairo, Kelly was concerned about
encountering these possessed teenagers. After the run-in with the
skin-faces, she couldn’t be happier to see them.