They killed four hundred and ninety-nine people in one fell swoop.
The medical doctors who weren’t packed into the transport boxes—only three left now—are racing from person to person, trying to see if anyone is alive. Some of my people, panicked by the massive death toll, race to the ruins, screaming. Some of the military dispatches, trying to keep everyone together and at a safe distance from the transport shuttle. The gas is gone now and only oxygen blows through the vents, leaving just the trace of a sticky sweet scent in the air before evaporating.
Chris moves beside me; I hadn’t seen him approach. He looks stunned, and he struggles for words as he stares down at Amy’s body, hardly even noticing those who actually died.
I watch her too, even as I take in the chaos that surrounds us. She stares vacantly ahead. Right at her mother.
I know exactly the moment when the drug wears off. I can see the look in her eyes change from empty idleness to dawning horror at the sight of her mother’s dead body. She curls up, a gasping, choking sob escaping her lips as she clutches her father and cries. A part of me rejoices—the drug didn’t kill her, didn’t deaden her mind—but part of me wishes she could be spared the pain of her mother’s death.
“We’re too much in the open,” Chris says, looking up. The blue sky feels ominous, as if the pteros could just swoop down out of the sky or the aliens could attack us at any moment. We have to get out of here.
“The ruins?” I ask Chris. My eyes flick to Colonel Martin—he should be giving the orders now—but he’s crouched in front of Amy’s mother, sobbing. I am surprised by the cold, emotionless part of me that’s detached itself from sympathy.
Chris frowns, thinking.
I answer my own question. “It won’t be safe there,” I say. “The—aliens, whatever is attacking us—they blew up the shuttle. They’re trying to kill us all, and they must know where the ruins are. They could be waiting for us. ”
“It’s that or nothing,” Chris says grimly. And he’s right. Where else can we go? To the forest—where the flowers make us sleep and the pteros fly overhead? Here, in a wide, open space where already five hundred have died? The ruins aren’t much, but they’re the only place of security we have, and the stone walls might provide us with some cover.
It’d mean returning to walls, but what other option do we have?
I rush to the communication room and grab the voice amplifier. People have scattered already, some panicking in the woods, some just running, and I hope my words can reach them all.
“Everyone! Go back to the ruins! Do not stay in the open! Get to the buildings!”
Through the big glass window, I can see a shift in the group as they swerve back the way we came, toward the ruins. The military acts as one, rounding people up and herding them to the relative safety of the stone structures.
Chris is trying to talk to Colonel Martin, but none of his words are breaking through his grief.
“Amy,” I say, “we have to go. ” I grab her by the elbow, but her arm slides out of my grip like water streaming through a sieve.
I seize hold of her again, sure of my grasp, and yank her up. She stumbles, but I don’t let her go. “There’s nothing we can do!” I shout, hoping she can hear my words through her sorrow. “We have to go. ”
Colonel Martin stands too. We’ve made it halfway across the compound when Amy gasps and turns back. “We can’t leave Mom!” she says wildly, turning her head to her father. “We can’t just leave her there!”
Chris wraps his arms around her to keep her from running back to the auto-shuttle. “We have to,” he says, gasping as he struggles to hold her back.
“We can’t leave her!” She reaches blindly for her mother.
“Amy. ” Colonel Martin’s voice is heavy and broken. “We have to go. ”
She sags, the fight leaving her so suddenly that Chris staggers under her weight.
“Follow me!” I call. My heart breaks at the way Amy’s entire body is limp with grief. We start out across the meadow after the group heading back to the ruins. Soon we’re running, Amy’s steps only occasionally tripping when her eyes, blurry with tears, don’t see a root or stone.
When we reach the first building, the one that had become Amy’s home with her parents, Amy collapses in one of the little camp chairs the Earthborns had packed with them, crying softly. Colonel Martin turns to Chris and me. His cheeks are sunken, dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. He’s shaped his grief into battle-ready armor; he looks more deadly and dangerous in this moment than I’ve ever seen him before.
“I’m sending out a group of military to scout the nearby area, to look for anyone who got lost in the panic, with orders to capture any sentient alien life-forms they can find. ” He glares at Chris, a wild fierceness in his eyes. “Is there anything you can tell me about what attacked us, anything that can help us track them down and kill them all?”
Chris shakes his head mutely.
I narrow my eyes, unsure why Colonel Martin thinks Chris is the expert on this.
?
?Is there anything you’re keeping hidden?” I ask. We don’t have time for secrets and subterfuge. If there’s any other information that can be helpful . . .
“You know what I know,” Colonel Martin replies. “Earth is sending aid. We only have to survive a few more days, a week, max. ”