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‘Creatures?’ I reply, looking up at him. Nine’s expression has gone blank – well, blanker than usual – the way he gets when he’s using his animal telepathy.
‘Oh, I forgot to mention we found some new friends!’
It’s John, jogging towards us from the crooked doorway of a house that looks half smashed, like the ground tried to swallow it up but couldn’t quite finish. Sam is a few steps behind him, beaming at me, although when he notices me noticing him, he quickly tones down the wattage of his smile, going for something a little less eager. Behind John and Sam, pushing a gurney, are Malcolm and a pale, lanky guy that I assume must be Adam, the dark hair hanging in his face making him look half-Mog and half-emo rock star.
‘So many Chimærae,’ Nine says, nodding excitedly as he gazes out into the darkness. ‘That’s awesome.’
‘We named the chubby, lazy one after you,’ Sam replies.
‘Less awesome.’
Upon reaching us, John wraps Marina in a tight hug. It’s dark out, but I can see days of worry etched in the dark bags under his eyes. I remember that wide-eyed kid I found fighting Mogadorians at his high school and wonder if John felt like that again, like he was back to being alone against the world. It should be a relief that we’re reunited, but we’re one less, and I know John well enough to know that he’s been beating himself up over our loss for days.
‘You made it,’ John says as he lets Marina go and hugs me next. His voice is quiet, for me only. ‘I didn’t know what I was going to do if –’
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ I reply, squeezing him back. ‘We’re here now. We’re going to fight. We’re going to win.’
John takes a step back from me, a relieved look briefly passing across his face, like he needed someone to tell him that. He nods to me and then walks over to the ship, taking Eight’s body in his arms so that Nine can jump down. Everyone falls silent as Malcolm wheels the gurney forward so that John can set down the body.
‘The Mogs put something on him,’ Marina says. She takes a lurching step towards the gurney. ‘Some electrical field.’
Adam takes a tentative step forward and clears his throat. ‘Electrodes? Over the heart? On the temples?’
‘Yes,’ Marina replies without looking at Adam, her eyes fixed on Eight’s body bag.
‘The Mogs use that to, uh …’ Adam pauses, then finishes awkwardly. ‘To keep specimens fresh. It won’t harm the remains, just preserve them.’
‘Specimens,’ Nine repeats dryly.
‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ Adam says quietly, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘I just thought you should know …’
‘It’s all right. Thanks, Adam,’ John says. He puts a hand on Marina’s shoulder. ‘Come on. Let’s get him inside.’
‘What –’ Marina chokes up and has to take a deep breath. ‘What’re you going to do with him?’
‘We’ve set aside a quiet room inside,’ Malcolm replies gently. ‘I’m not sure what customs the Loric have for burials …’
I look first at John, whose face is scrunched up in thought, then at Nine, who looks absolutely baffled.
‘We don’t know them either,’ I say. ‘I mean, when was the last time we had a chance to properly honor one of our fallen?’
‘We can’t bury him here, though,’ Marina says. ‘This is a Mog place.’
Malcolm nods, understanding, and touches Marina softly on the shoulder. ‘Do you want to help me bring him inside?’
Marina nods. Together, she and Malcolm wheel Eight’s body back towards the sunken house. Adam follows them at a respectful distance, his hands clasped awkwardly behind his back. After a moment, Nine claps John hard on the back, breaking the tension.
‘So did I mishear over the communicator, or did you send your girlfriend off on a super-sexy secret mission with her ex-boyfriend?’
‘We’re fighting a war here, Nine, it’s not a joke,’ John replies sternly. After a moment’s awkward pause, a begrudging smile breaks on his face. ‘Also, shut up. It’s not super sexy. What does that even mean?’
‘Wow, you really need my guidance,’ Nine says. He throws his arm around John’s shoulders and leads him towards the house. ‘Come on. I’ll explain what sexy is.’
‘I know what it – ugh, why am I even discussing this with you?’ John shoves Nine in frustration, but Nine just holds on tighter. ‘Get off me, idiot.’
‘Come on, Johnny, you need my affection now more than ever.’
I roll my eyes as the guys walk towards the house, having their little bro moment. That leaves me alone with Sam, standing a few feet away, looking at me intently. I can see him trying to figure out what to say, or more likely working up the nerve to say it. The guy’s probably been chewing on this moment for hours, working on his amazing speech to the girl he wasn’t sure he’d ever see again.
‘Hey,’ is what he settles on at last.
‘Hey back,’ I reply, and before he can get another word out, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him hard enough that I probably knock the wind out of him. Sam seems stunned at first but kisses back after a moment, trying to match my intensity. I grab him by the front of the shirt and pull him so that we’re pressed up against the side of the Skimmer – not exactly the most romantic place in the world, but I’ll take it. I grab Sam’s hands and put them on my hips, then clutch the sides of his face and run my fingers up through his hair, all this desperate energy pouring out of me and into this kiss.
After a couple of minutes, Sam breaks away from me, breathless. ‘Six, whoa, what is going on?’
The look on Sam’s face isn’t what I was expecting. Yes, there’s flushed bewilderment, but mixed in with that surprise is an undercurrent of concern. It makes me look away.
‘I just really wanted to do that,’ I reply, telling him the truth. ‘I didn’t know if I’d get another chance.’
I press my face against the side of Sam’s neck and feel his heartbeat against my cheek. I’ve spent the last few days putting on a strong front, trying to keep it together with Marina and Nine both on the verge of falling apart. Finally, at least while we’re out here in the dark, I can let myself go a little bit. Sam has me around the waist, so I sink against him, let him hold me up and take a shuddering breath against his neck.
‘It can just end so quickly …,’ I whisper, leaning back to get a look at him. ‘I didn’t want to not have done that, you know? I don’t care if it complicates things.’
‘Me neither,’ Sam says. ‘Obviously.’
We start to kiss again, this time a lot gentler, Sam’s hands slowly moving up my sides. When the wolf howls – loud, echoing, nearby – my first instinct is that it’s Nine spying on us from the house and making stupid noises. But then a second and third wolf make a howling chorus and I lean back to peer at Sam.
‘What the hell is that?’ I ask. ‘Wolves in the suburbs?’
‘I don’t know –’ he starts to reply, but then his eyes widen. ‘The Chimærae. They’re warning us.’
A moment after he says it, I hear the whup-whup-whup of at least three helicopters bearing down on us. If I squint, I can see their outlines approaching in the night sky. And then there are the blue flashing lights coming from the housing development’s only access road; the lights are attached to a caravan of black SUVs, all of them speeding in our direction.
15
At the sound of screeching tires and helicopter rotors, Nine and I burst back outside, leaping over the house’s broken porch and on to the lawn. We’re just in time to see a lightning strike slice down from the sky, courtesy of Six. It’s a warning shot; the bolt erupts a piece of asphalt right in front of a black SUV that’s careening up the access road, causing it to swerve.
‘The hell is this?’ Nine growls. ‘I thought we were done with the feds.’
‘Adam said they’re supposed to leave this place alone,’ I reply. ‘Some deal with the Mogs.’
‘I guess that ended when you killed them all, huh?’
&n
bsp; There are three choppers overhead, circling like vultures. Some signal must pass between them, because they all turn on spotlights at the same time. One of them trains on me and Nine, another on the entrance of the house behind us and a third on Six and Sam. In the bright light, I notice Sam, unarmed, quickly climbing into the Skimmer for cover. Six, her hands splayed in the air, in the process of summoning some nasty weather for our uninvited guests, goes invisible before the spotlight can really get a fix on her.
Meanwhile, undeterred by the lightning strike, a parade of black SUVs files up the access road, blue lights flashing beneath their windshields. They skid to a stop next to each other in a tight formation, eventually creating a blockade of bulletproof glass and shiny, dent-resistant paneling. Their doors fling open and a bunch of agents in identical navy-blue windbreakers leap out. The ones who aren’t yelling into walkie-talkies have guns trained on us, all of them hunkered behind their car doors for cover. It takes them less than a minute to have us pinned down in the cul-de-sac.
‘Do they really think this will stop us?’ Nine asks as he takes a step away from the house, almost daring the agents to try shooting him.
‘I don’t know what they’re thinking,’ I reply. ‘But they don’t know about the Chimærae.’
I can sense them lurking in the shadows just off the access road. These government guys might think they’ve got us surrounded, but the glowing eyes in the darkness would argue otherwise. The Chimærae hold their position, waiting for a signal.
I hear a creak behind me and half turn to find Marina on the porch, jagged icicles extending from her hands like twin daggers. That’s new. Next to her, using the doorway for cover, is Adam, holding a Mogadorian blaster.
