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Tag: Alice

Part 4 – Sanguinary Affliction

London, 2209 – 276 Years Before Impact Day

Alarms blared around him as Tyson watched the catastrophe unfold on the monitors in front of him. A knot began to twist in his stomach even before Mason’s orders came through.

“Fuck me.”

The order came through. Meet me in my office. He didn’t waste any time.

Despite the situation, Mason seemed calm, almost preternaturally so. It was almost worse than the alternative.

“What happened?” he asked. Mason took a while to respond.

“Do you know what I created?” Mason asked, instead of answering.

Tyson had never thought to question Mason on his work. It was better not to ask questions.

After Mason was called to Melbourne, he’d come back changed. He obsessed over his work. Then, when his daughter had died, he’d changed again, disconnected from everyone around him.

Tyson never asked why Alice was alive and well again, or why she no longer aged. He never asked why Mason had a small community of seemingly perfect humans kept far below the surface, each of them beautiful and charming and unspeakably dangerous.

He’d never asked why Mason looked younger and healthier every day.

He’d never questioned the meetings Mason had with high-ranking government officials, owners of prisons, hospitals, detainment and refugee camps. It wasn’t in the job description, and he rarely wanted the answers.

“I assumed super-soldiers,” Tyson said diplomatically.

“Narrow minded as always,” Mason replied. “I created the future. The next step in human evolution. I created the prototypes for a species beyond humans, a species which could stand against any threat to them. And do you know why?”

“Isn’t that your job?”

“Do you know what it means to conquer evolution?” Mason asked, ignoring him. “It means responsibility. It means that if we don’t push ourselves to change, we remain the same. And everywhere around us, everything else grows stronger.”

“Last I checked, we were only gettin’ more dangerous too,” Tyson offered. “Guns are getting bigger, and the only thing that really kills us is, well, us but with bigger guns.”

“You’re wrong,” Mason scolded. “There’s so much more out there, and we’re as fragile as we’ve ever been. But not anymore.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that they’re out,” Mason snarled. “Every one of them is more intelligent than any human out there, idiot or genius, but they couldn’t understand. No, they chose not to understand. They turned their backs on me, and now they’re gone.”

“So, a bunch of superhumans are on the loose, and your work is down the shitter?”

“A lesser man would concede so,” Mason said. “Not me. You’re going to bring them back. Starting with my daughter.”

“And how do you think I’m gonna manage that?” Tyson asked. “You may have given me a few upgrades over the years, but I don’t stand a chance against them.”

“With this,” Mason said, holding up a syringe. It seemed to give off a dull glow.

“Another upgrade?”

The upgrade,” Mason told him. “It’ll react with the nanotech in your body already, bring you up to a physical match.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. Just remember, the progenitors are more than dangerous. Any one of them could cause more damage to the world than any bomb, and there are over twenty of them out there.”

“Don’t you fret, boss. I always knew I’d end up saving the world one day.”

* * *

Of all twenty-six of Mason’s progenitors, Tyson liked the youngest one the least. Specimen Z was every bit as dangerous as the rest of them, but with an added layer of being prone to bloodthirsty rages. She killed mercilessly, savagely, taking a cruel delight in her physical superiority.

G wasn’t much better. He was insidious; a careful planner, charismatic manipulator and unwaveringly dedicated.

Of course Alice had ended up with the two of them.

He tracked them to a small hostel in the middle of the city, closer than he’d ever been. His patience was wearing thin, and the other progenitors weren’t going to catch themselves.

The girl behind the counter, an awkward young thing with pale skin and blue hair, looked up at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Good evening,” he said, forcing himself to be courteous. It was harder than it should have been. He was angrier than he should have been.

“Uh, hey,” the girl said, clearly bored. “Lookin’ for a room?”

“No,” he said, fighting the temptation to simply yank her over the counter and bite her. Where was that coming from?

“O…kay? What can I do for you, then?”

She seemed sweet, and entirely unconnected to any of this. So why did he want to kill her?

“I’m looking for some friends of mine,” he said, trying to handle things reasonably. Violence wasn’t necessary.

“A’ight…”

“They just checked in here, but I don’t know their room number,” he lied. It wasn’t his strong suit.

“So message ’em. Call ’em.”

“They’re currently offline.”

Just give me the room number. The longer this conversation goes on, the harder it is to resist…

“Then I can’t help ya. Sorry.”

“It’s important,” he insisted, leaning on the counter. It took all of his restraint not to simply grab her head and slam it into her computer.

“So are the rules,” she said. He sighed, trying to expel the violent urges. It didn’t help.

“Can you at least tell me if you’ve seen them?”

“Yeah… No.”

Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her.

He reached into his jacket, and pulled out his tablet. She flinched, but he barely noticed. Instead, he pulled up a picture of the three of them, showing it to her.

“Those sure are some people,” she said.

Don’t kill her.

“Gabriel, Zoe and Alice.”

“Nope,” she said.

Don’t.

“You’re lying,” he snarled.

“Does it matter?”

Don’t…

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” he said.

“Well, you just told me you were only looking for some friends, so…”

Kill her.

“They’re very dangerous,” he said.

“I try not to judge.”

Kill.

“If you don’t start taking this seriously…” he threatened, but she seemed unfazed.

“Yes?”

Kill her.

“Those three people, they’re fugitives,” he said, through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to bring them in, but I need your help.”

“One of them is a kid. What’d she do, push someone in a playground?”

“She’s their captive.” Another poor lie.

“She seemed pretty happy to me.”

It would be so easy, too.

“So you did see them.”

“Still doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging. “I can’t tell you anything.”

Rip her fucking throat out and watch the blood spray over the desk.

“You’re endangering countless lives,” he snarled at her. “Is your petty service job really worth that?”

“Yep.”

“Idiot!”

“Well, now I really want to help you,” she said sarcastically. “What were those names again?”

Tear off her arm and use the bones to gouge out her eyes.

“Get out of my way,” he said, barely able to contain the violent urges. “I’ll check myself.”

“Yeah, or not.”

That was the last straw. He vaulted over the counter, throwing her against the back wall like she weight nothing. He barely even noticed, checking the computer for recent check-ins.

“Room 12. Thank you.”

“You’re breaking the law, you know,” she said, sounding winded. She probably had a broken rib. Maybe more.

Crush those ribs into dust. Make a soup out of her organs.

“I’m saving the world,” he countered.

As he walked off, he heard her speaking again, but it wasn’t to him.

“Guys, this is is Roxie. You’re about to have company.”

She warned them. The little bitch warned them, and they would be well and truly gone by the time he got to their room.

She ruined everything. Kill the fucking bitch.

He slammed his fist into the computer, smashing it. She recoiled in fear.

“Oh, you stupid kid.”

“Feel free to report me,” she said, with a clearly false bravado.

Nail her to the wall and leave her there.

He shook his head, but the violent images just kept getting stronger. He needed something else, something to focus on.

Break every bone in her body, one by one. All 206 of them.

Mason had warned him about something…

The progenitors. They were infectious. That was why they were dangerous. That was why they had to be contained.

“You spoke to them,” he said, pulling out his pistol. “You’re infected.”

“Say what now?”

“It’s too late for you.”

“Uh…”

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

“I don’t want to fight,” Z said, with a gun pressed against his temple. “I really don’t.”

Alice stood behind her, a sombre expression on her face.

“What do you want, then?” Tyson asked.

“A cure,” Z crooned. “He infected us with something. We didn’t know. We never wanted any of this.”

“We only wanted to be free,” Alice added.

“So come back with me,” Tyson said.

“I want a promise,” Z insisted. “I want a cure, and I want freedom. No more living in a lab.”

“I take it G wasn’t on board with this decision?” Tyson had watched as Z stabbed her brother through the heart, dropping him down a twenty story elevator shaft.

“He’s more stubborn than I am,” Z said.

“He’ll be okay,” Alice said.

“You lot are bloody hard to kill,” Tyson agreed.

“So, do we have a deal?” Z asked him. “Or do I blow your brains out right now and figure it out myself?”

“It’s not my deal to make,” Tyson argued. “But I can call. I can ask.”

“Do it, then.”

He already knew what Mason would say. Any lie was worth it to get his daughter back. But it had to look convincing.

He rang his boss.

“What is it?”

“I, uh, I got a proposition, boss. From one of your girls. Z.”

“You’re supposed to be bringing them back, not having a tea party,” Mason chided him.

“She’s got me at a… disadvantage,” Tyson said. “Says she’ll come back if you can promise her a cure. And a little more room.”

“It’s not a negotiation,” Mason said. Z leaned in, whispering into the mic.

“I know your dog here is disposable, but you might want to reconsider,” she said. “I’m not travelling alone.”

“…Alice?” Mason asked.

“She wants to come home,” Z said. “You can make that happen.”

“Fine,” Mason said. “You have my word. Tyson, start looking for the others. The girls know their way back.”

Tyson just growled as the line shut off. Z smirked, and lowered the gun.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Just go,” he said.

“Those are some serious anger issues,” she taunted him. “Are you sure you’re not infected too?”

“I’m immune,” he said. “Had to be. Been around you your whole lives, remember?”

She smiled, taking a step back.

“It must be peaceful, being an idiot,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you really trust him?” she asked. “Do you trust anything he says?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“If you knew what we really were, if you knew what it took to make us, you wouldn’t believe him either,” she said. “Whatever you think his plan was, you’re wrong. Whatever he told you, he’s lying.”

“Then why are you going back?” he asked.

“To kill him,” she said, before picking up Alice and darting from the room, leaving him alone in the darkness.

 

Next Week: XO

Part 3 – Genesis

London, 2184 – 301 Years Before Impact Day

Mason stood over his daughter’s bed, barely able to feel. She looked so peaceful in death, and he wished he could cry. James had cried. Mason just felt hollow.

For nearly a decade, his research had consumed him. He’d neglected Alice, assuming there’d be more time. Then she was gone, and he had nothing. His research had failed to yield the answers he needed, his husband was inconsolable, his daughter out of his reach.

He felt lost, directionless. Close to hopeless. He alone knew what was coming, and he alone could stand against it. James hadn’t listened, wouldn’t believe him. Haylie didn’t understand. He had no friends outside of that. Tyson, maybe. Tyson understood, but he wasn’t nearly bright enough to help. A useful tool, nothing more.

But a tool was useless without a purpose, and Mason no longer had a purpose to direct Tyson towards. All he had were dead ends and grief, and the unwavering certainty that the end was coming.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching down to brush Alice’s cold cheek.

It shouldn’t have happened. He should have noticed earlier. James should have noticed earlier. Between the two of them, they should have been able to save her. Instead, all they did was make her suffer more. At least the suffering part was over.

Eventually, he couldn’t look at her any longer. He couldn’t return home, couldn’t bare to see James. Instead, he went to the only place that ever felt safe anymore. He went back to his lab.

He slumped into his desk chair, dismissing endlessly scrolling pages of simulation results. It didn’t matter. None of them listed the successes he needed.

“I’m sorry,” Glory said, from behind the glass barrier. Mason did his best to ignore it. Glory was taunting him with his daughter’s voice.

“Don’t.”

“Or what?” Glory asked, shifting to Tyson’s voice. “What could you possibly do to me?”

For years, Mason had experimented on Glory, looking for answers. He knew nothing about them, except for their obsession with Haylie, whose secret he had kept for ten long years. James knew, of course, but nobody else. Not even Tyson.

Glory was, though he was loathe to use the word, impossible. Their body defied any known laws of conservation of mass or energy, regenerating cells endlessly, living without any need for food or water, despite showing hunger and thirst. Extracted blood or tissue tended to simply evaporate or fall apart after a length of time, as if returning to the host body. They aged, but didn’t die.

Eventually, he’d given up. Whatever mysteries were locked inside of Glory were inaccessible to him, and he had more important work to do. He had an apocalypse to prepare for, a species to uplift, defenders to create. After ten years, he hadn’t come any close to any of his goals.

More than once, he’d considered letting Glory go. It felt cruel, keeping them locked up. If not for Haylie’s insistence, he probably would have let them go. She wanted them contained, though. So he obliged.

“I can always think of something worse,” he said, without really meaning it.

“Have you considered asking for help?” Glory asked, this time in his own voice. Somehow, that was the most disturbing.

“There’s nobody in the world who can help me with this,” he said, sighing.

“I can.”

He looked at Glory, sitting calmly with their legs folded underneath them. They very rarely moved, not that there was a lot of room to move.

“How?” he asked.

“After ten years, you finally ask,” Glory said, in Jame’s voice. “I know what the Destroyer is. And I know there’s only one thing that can stop it.”

“Tell me,” Mason pleaded.

“Why should I?” Glory said, now sounding like Haylie. “After everything you’ve done to me, why should I help you?”

“What do you want?” Mason asked. “Why bring it up now?”

“Maybe I just want you to suffer,” they said, in the voice they’d first used, ten years ago.

“You cannot bring me more pain than I’m already feeling.”

Glory looked at him, then stood, placing their palm against the glass.

“The Destroyer comes from another world,” they said. “Compared to something like you, they may as well be a god. They possess the power to deconstruct life itself, and shape it anew.”

“What could possibly stand against that?” Mason asked.

“Me,” Glory replied.

“You?”

“The Great Destroyer is not the only god,” Glory said. “Every world has one.”

“And you’re…”

“In the flesh, so to speak.” They gave a smug bow. “And I am the only chance you have at stopping the Destroyer.”

“Haylie captured you easily,” Mason pointed out. “I trapped you effortlessly. What power do you have?”

Glory sighed, and returned to a seated position, legs folded beneath them.

“I’m not a fighter, not really. I tried fighting the Destroyer before, a long time ago. I lost. I’m weaker now.”

“Then what good are you?”

“Surely a man of science can see value beyond just martial prowess?” Glory asked, in his own voice once again. “I have answers, and I have the ability to resist the Destroyer’s entropic powers. Between the two of us, I think there’s a chance yet.”

“And why are you suddenly offering your help?” Mason asked, suspicious.

“Because you’re finally desperate enough to take it,” Glory said. “And because I’ll be damned if I hand my world over to the Destroyer.”

“So what do we do?”

“We continue your research,” Glory said. “You were only missing one key component.”

“What? How do you…”

“Use me. Use my blood as a bonding agent.”

“Your blood always evaporates,” Mason pointed out.

“Unless I choose to let it stay.”

“You’ve been blocking me, all this time?”

“I’ve been a prisoner all this time. Now, we’re collaborators,” Glory said. “Oh, and this time, think bigger.”

“How much bigger?”

“Think in the hundreds of thousands,” Glory told him.

“That’s…”

He shook his head. What Glory was asking, it was unthinkable. But then…

Melbourne, 2175 – 310 Years Before Impact Day

“So, you’re Mason,” the creature said, scowling at him with burning eyes. It spoke with a resonance in its voice that shook him to his core.

Whatever he was looking at, it certainly wasn’t human. Humanoid, maybe, though even that was questionable.  It had four limbs, each bound to a surface on the baroque obsidian throne it sat on. It seemed to have flesh, although it was difficult to tell for sure. The skin was a deep black that seemed to absorb all light, with pulsing red veins that glowed against their dark backing.

It had a head, and the head had eyes, but they weren’t human eyes. Glowing red orbs full of malevolence and hate, sitting above an opening too wide to be a mouth, filled with sharpened blades too cruel to be teeth.

Its chest had been ripped open, and a crude mechanical harness laid on top of it. He could see through to an empty chest cavity, and wires and pipes draining the creature of whatever was inside it.

So this is where the power comes from.

“How do you know me?” he asked, keeping a safer distance than needed. “Why did you ask for me?” The creature tilted its head slightly, the mouth-like opening curling into a sadistic smile.

“Because of what you do,” it said.

“My work?”

“Your future.”

It gnashed its teeth, attempting to lunge forward. The bonds held tight.

“I don’t understand,” Mason said.

“You don’t need to,” it replied. “There’s only one thing I need you to understand. One day, I am going to be free of this prison. When that day comes, I am going to find you. I am going to destroy you. I am going to destroy your entire world, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

Mason took a step back, overwhelmed with fear. It was a deep, instinctual fear, one he felt powerless to fight.

He believed the creature. He believed it intended to kill him, and he believed it truly would. He felt incapable of believing anything else, as if by speaking the words, the creature had set that future in stone.

“Why?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“Because that’s what I do,” the creature told him. “And because your sins deserve the kind of Hell only I can inflict.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he protested. “I wouldn’t do anything!”

“Now, Mason,” the creature said, in a soft, almost soothing voice. A voice that sounded almost human. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“I’ll stop you,” he said, trying to will himself into believing it. “I’ll save this world, and I’ll stop you from destroying anything.”

The creature didn’t say anything after that. It only grinned.

For as long as he lived, he would never forget that grin.

London, 2185 – 300 Years Before Impact Day

Mason smiled at the young girl, filled with pride as she opened her eyes for the first time. He didn’t think of the cost it took to get this far, or the work still ahead of him. All he thought about was that for the first time in a year, he had his daughter back.

“Good morning,” Haylie said, as the girl looked around the room. Mason watched from behind mirrored glass.

“Hi…” the girl said, sounding confused. “Where… Who am I?”

“Specimen A,” Haylie informed her. “Alice. You’re deep underground London, in a genetics research laboratory.”

“Am I not real?”

“You’re more than real,” Haylie said. “You’re the first.”

“The first what?”

“Progenitor,” Haylie told her. “Soon, you’ll have siblings. One day, you’ll form the template for a newer, stronger humanity.”

“Why?” Alice asked.

“Because that’s what it will take to save the world,” Haylie said. “But there will be plenty of time to discuss that later. Would you like to meet your father?”

 

Next Week: Sanguinary Affliction

Interlude #5 – Vignettes

The Child returned to The Citadel, the stronghold of the Guardians that existed outside of any world’s time and space. Her machinations were, at least for now, complete. For now, she needed only be patient.

Time did not flow normally through The Citadel, if there was a ‘normal’ for time. Time within an isolated system is not bound to the time of any other isolated system. They do not interact, do not affect one another. Still, moving through fourth dimensional space was not as easy as moving through third, and moving beyond that was more complicated still. She needed a rest, a chance to organise and prepare.

“What are you up to?” asked a voice, as a figure faded in from the darkness.

The Nameless had the look of a teenage boy, just on the cusp of puberty. His short white hair was swept up as though by some unknown source of gravity, and his footfalls seemed to stop just shy of touching the ground. He stared at The Child with shimmering, golden eyes ringed with black.

“Advancing the plot,” she replied, not making eye contact. He was interrupting, and she didn’t care for it.

“We’re not storytellers,” he said. “That’s not our role.”

“According to who?” she demanded.

“Child…”

“The First is gone, Nameless. Our traditions are empty now.”

“You’re young,” he said, his voice even and patient. “You haven’t even seen a single cycle through to completion.”

“That’s the point,” she said. “I don’t want to see this bullshit repeat itself. I want things to change.”

“Things never change,” he replied softly. “Nobody is above that. Nothing can change that.”

“We’ll see.”

With that, she disappeared, leaving The Citadel once again.

* * *

Rebecca sat beside the throne, staring into a floating sphere of light. Two others joined her, neither of them as close to the throne as she was.

“What the actual fuck is going on out there?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Nothing we need to worry about,” said the tall woman with ashen purple skin and bright silver hair. “Not our domain.”

“It is unusual, though,” said the thin, elegant man with pale skin and penetrating red eyes. “Do you think Lucy knows?”

“Lucy knows everything, Nix,” Rebecca said. “If they were concerned…”

“I am concerned,” said a new voice, as a figure materialised in the throne. “But for now, I’m happy to watch, and see how things play out.”

“What are you waiting for?” asked the tall woman.

“A spark of light,” Lucy said.

* * *

Rachel pored over the data, an empty sheet of the strongest migraine medication she could find lying beside her. Not everything made sense, but her brain wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t rest. She needed to dig deeper, to find the solutions to problems she hadn’t even considered yet. Pointless adrenaline coursed through her body, and her head throbbed and ached.

“What are you looking for?” Sadie asked, peering over Rachel’s shoulder. She couldn’t follow any of what Rachel was looking at.

A series of makeshift sensors, built largely out of repurposed homeware circuitry and spare phone parts, picked up her voice, her face, and converted them to a digital signal, which popped up on Rachel’s monitor.

“Don’t know yet,” Rachel muttered. “Answers, I guess.”

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a sketch Rachel had made on a scrap of paper. Rachel glanced at the monitor, able to figure out what Sadie was pointing at.

It was a sketch of two circles, intersecting slightly. Around them she had drawn five other circles, shaded in, and all seven circles formed a ring. Inside of that ring, she’d drawn a question mark. Outside of it, she’d drawn a bigger circle, encompassing the others.

“Outside,” Rachel said.

“What does that mean?” Sadie asked.

“Not sure yet.”

* * *

Roxie sat high above Melbourne, supported by nothing more than the air beneath her, cloak fluttering in the breeze. She looked down at the city, and wondered.

Felix’s death was as vivid as it ever was, and it still hurt to relive it. Since then, she’d spent every free moment she had trying to figure out what had happened. No answers had come to her.

Charlie seemed normal after that experience. Whatever that creature was, it hadn’t emerged again. It was still in there, though. Of that, Roxie was certain. After all, Charlie didn’t die. Something was breaking the rules, just for her.

She considered going back for Sadie. Especially now, while Charlie was nowhere near. There was no risk involved. Sadie could be taken to where she belonged, kept safe, given the chance to move on. But every time she entertained the thought, she was reminded of Felix, and she couldn’t do it.

There were other Reapers, of course. Any one of them could have done it. None of them did, and she couldn’t figure out why. In fact, they all seemed to steer clear of this city, around this time. Of course, they all came back once Charlie was gone, but within the timeline of this world, that wouldn’t happen for another year or so.

In the meantime, there were so, so many souls to collect, and nobody but her to do it.

She missed Felix.

* * *

“It’s done,” Haylie said. Alice nodded.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“Painful.”

“Sorry about that,” Alice said. “Hopefully it won’t be for long.”

“Do you think it will help?” Haylie asked.

“We won’t know,” Alice said, a little flat. “I mean, if it works, we will. If not…”

“Thank you,” Haylie said.

“Don’t mention it,” Alice replied.

“Your brother still doesn’t know, does he?”

“He’s basically genetically wired to think of me as a kid that needs protecting,” Alice said. “He can’t help it.”

“Still, it’s a shame he doesn’t see what you’re truly capable of.”

“Hey, that’s just my lot in life,” Alice said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Have you considered finding a way to change your body?” Haylie asked.

“I have about a thousand theories,” Alice said. “And no way to test them.”

“Well, if you ever need assistance…”

“Thanks, Haylie. You’re a good friend.”

 

Next Week: Until You’re Dead

Interlude #3 – Something Feels Off

One Month Before Impact Day

Ami sat on her bed, gently rubbing her temples. On the edge of her perception, something hovered, bothering her, frightening her, but whenever she tried to focus on it, it just disappeared.

Kaito sat beside her, rubbing her shoulder. She looked up at her twin brother, and smiled.

“You seem stressed,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Something feels… off,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t feel it?”

“I’ve been trying to limit my awareness,” he admitted. “The migraines are still… Oh. Oh, what is that?”

From the expression on his face, she knew he was sensing the same thing she was, and he was far more perceptive than she was.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But—”

“It’s in the city. We could- UGH!

He doubled over, pressing his hands into his head, his face contorted into a pained grimace. Ami wrapped her arms around him protectively.

“Kaito! Take it easy,” she whispered gently.

“Heh,” he said, blinking rapidly and sitting up straight again. “I know I’ve said this before, but you definitely got the better deal.”

She frowned.

“Neither of us got a good deal, Kaito,” she said sternly. “You know that.”

“I know, I know. The price…”

There was a surge, an almost overwhelming wave of something, as if the presence they were sensing suddenly got a lot more powerful. They looked at each other.

“Do you want to go after it?” she asked him.

“Yes, but we should get backup.”

“Haylie?” she suggested.

“Definitely,” he said, moments before Alice popped her head into the room.

“Hey!” she said cheerily.

“Alice?” Ami asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I was lonely,” she said. “You look serious. What’s happened?”

“The northern tower,” Kaito said, pinpointing the presence. He and Ami exchanged worried glances.

“That’s where Exxo is,” Alice said.

“Huh?”

“I was just there,” she added.

“Did Exxo say anything?” Ami questioned.

“Yeah, they said something was coming,” Alice said. “Asked me to leave.”

“We need to get there,” Kaito said.

“Are they in trouble?” Alice asked, worried. “They did seem stressed…”

Kaito shook his head.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel malevolent, just… new.”

“Right,” Ami agreed. “And—”

Another surge, something different, something powerful.

“You feel that?” Kaito asked.

“Yeah,” Ami confirmed.

“What, what?” Alice asked, lacking the telepathic awareness of the twins.

“A second presence,” Ami explained. “I don’t…”

“It’s familiar, somehow?” Kaito said, uncertain.

“But very different,” Ami agreed.

“I don’t understand,” Alice complained.

“We need to get to Exxo,” Ami said. “Now.”

“Okay! Follow me,” Alice said cheerfully.”

The three of them moved quickly, trying not to look as alarmed as they felt. They passed plenty of civilians on their way, and the last thing they wanted was to raise a panic. The city was already unstable enough.

It didn’t take them long to get to the place Alice had left Exxo, but they the time they did, Exxo was already unconscious, lying in Gabriel’s arms. He looked up at them, his expression unreadable. One of Haylie’s bodies stood behind him, looking warmly down at Exxo.

“What happened?” Ami asked, looking around for a threat.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said, sounding more stressed than she was used to hearing him.

“My surveillance data is corrupted,” Haylie said.

“How is that possible?” Kaito asked. Haylie’s systems were all wired into a sentient hive-mind. There wasn’t a technology in the world that could corrupt that data.

“I don’t know,” was all she said.

“We felt something,” Ami said. “A presence.”

“Describe it,” Gabriel ordered.

“There were two, actually,” Kaito said. “One was… uh…”

He looked at Ami, helpless. She just shrugged.

“I can’t remember,” she said.

“Me either,” he said.

“Neither of them?” Gabriel asked.

“Nothing,” Ami said. “Nostalgia, maybe.”

“Wow, yeah” Kaito agreed. “A very potent feeling of nostalgia.”

“I don’t understand,” Alice said, brushing Exxo’s hair out of their face.

Gabriel looked up at Haylie, transferring Exxo to Alice, who held them up effortlessly.

“Haylie. Is that a combat chassis?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. Come with me,” he said.

 

Next Week: The Deluded Fantasy Of A Lonely Teenage Girl

Interlude #2 – I’m Here To Talk To Your Reflection

1 Month Before Impact Day

XO sat on the edge of the balcony, their legs dangling over the edge, enjoying the lights of the city below them. Genesis City was the closest they had to a home, and it did feel nice to be back, away from the danger and cruelty of the world below. Their time in the city was peaceful, and it almost allowed them to feel normal.

“The view is nice here, huh?” a familiar voice behind them said. They turned slightly, and smiled at Alice, her lilac hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Yeah.”

“You come here to think?” she asked, placing a hand on their shoulder.

“Just to get away from everything,” they confessed. Had it been anyone else, they might have asked to be left alone, but not Alice. She was always welcome.

“How’s everything going?”

“I…” XO sighed. “Same as always, I suppose.”

Alice frowned, placing her hands on her hips. It was such a childlike gesture, it almost made XO laugh. She had such youthful mannerisms, and such a young appearance, it was easy to forget she was significantly older than they were. At least, so far as they knew.

“That’s not true,” she said. “You’re a terrible liar, Exxo. What’s going on?”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Understand?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Believe me,” XO implored her.

“Try me.”

XO hesitated for a moment, then nodded. They glanced over to the building opposite the balcony, a massive tower on the other side of a large park.

“Look over there,” they said. “Do you see that?”

“See what? The tower?”

On the tower,” XO said, shaking their head. They already knew Alice wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said.

“Exactly.”

She narrowed her eyes at them, searching their face.

“What do you see?” she asked.

“Cracks,” they said.

“Are you…” She looked back over at the building, staring, then shrugged. “My vision is better than yours, isn’t it? I really don’t see anything.”

“Neither does Haylie,” XO said. “But I can see them.”

“That’s concerning.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked, gently stroking XO’s arm.

“No,” they admitted.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” they said. “I can’t help but feel like… something is happening. Something-” They hesitated, suddenly filled with an uncomfortably familiar feeling they couldn’t quite place. A feeling centred around Alice. “You need to go,” they insisted, suddenly and urgently.

“What?”

“I can’t explain it, but…”

She looked concerned, but nodded.

“Okay, but we’ll continue this later, okay?”

“Thank you,” XO said.

“I love you, Exxo,” she said.

“I know. I love you too, Alice.”

With that, she left. XO watched her go, wondering why they needed her gone so urgently. There was some memory, some sensation, just on the tip of their…

“You know, I never get used to seeing her,” someone said, moments before appearing out of the air. For just a second, XO thought that Alice had returned, but they knew instinctively this wasn’t Alice, no matter how much she looked like her. She was someone else entirely.

“Who are you?” they demanded, despite feeling like they knew the answer, somehow.

“The original,” she said. “You don’t remember me, huh.”

“We’ve met?”

“Sort of. I’ve met some of your other shells. I thought maybe some of the memories would be preserved. I guess not.”

“What are you talking about?” XO asked, beginning to feel a strong sense of panic. Whoever this was, she suddenly seemed dangerous.

“Don’t worry about it,” the girl said, waving away their concerns.

“What do you want?” XO demanded. “What are you?”

“I want…” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “No, I’m talking to the wrong person. I’m not here for you.”

“Then who?”

“I’m here to talk to your reflection,” she said.

“I don’t have one,” XO muttered. “What are you-”

The girl rolled her eyes, pressing her fingers against XO’s head. With a gentle shove, she pushed them backwards, into a dark space filled with glittering shards of light. It was cold, and felt massive. XO had no idea what was happening.

In the distance, they could hear muffled voices. Frightened but determined, they made their way towards the voices, scrambling over shattered glass until they found the piece the sounds were coming from.

Through a window, they watched their body continue to speak to the girl.

“Hello, Reflection,” the girl said.

“Call me Glory,” their body replied.

“Whatever you say.”

“What do you want, Child?” their body demanded, dripping with superiority and impatience.

“I have an opportunity for you,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“A new world, full of new faces.”

Their body tilted their head, considering it. Curiosity sparked on their face, though they quickly tried to hide it. Had the girl noticed?

“And?”

“Weakened prey,” she added.

“Oh?”

“Divide and conquer,” she said.

“What do I have to do?” their body asked.

“Nothing, yet. I’m taking care of it.”

“Then why talk to me at all?”

“A simple piece of advice,” the girl said.

“I’m all ears.”

“You’ll be in Melbourne in about a month. When you’re there, Exxo needs to be hurt. Badly.”

“They’ll heal,” their body pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter,” the girl said. “It’s all about the freshness of the body.”

“What are you up to?”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

“Alright. I can probably pull some strings,” their body said.

“I know you can.”

“What’ll happen to this shell?” their body asked.

“It’ll probably die.”

“Good.”

The girl smiled, but there was no joy in her eyes. Only exhaustion.

“It’s time to go back inside, now,” she said.

“Fine, fine-”

She touched their body’s head again, and in an instant, everything was back to normal. They were looking out of their own eyes, at a girl who looked a lot like Alice.

“What was that?” they demanded. “Who was that?”

“Nothing, Exxo,” she said. “You need to forget this now.”

“Forget… what…?” they said, the memories already slipping from their mind.

“Good enby,” she said, moments before disappearing.

 

Next Week: Sort Of A Girl Problem

Step 1 – All You Have To Do Is Die

London, 2209 – 276 Years Before Impact Day

It started the same as any typical day. She slept in, ate an unhealthy breakfast in the early afternoon, dragged her guitar into the city centre and busked. When her throat was sore and her fingers were throbbing, she ate another greasy meal, and went to work.

Work consisted of sitting behind a counter in a cheap hotel, maintaining a presence, answering emails and calls that came once every few hours, and helping the people that came in looking for a room. She was lucky to see more than one of them a night.

She liked the quiet, though. The city was bright and noisy, full of people and advertisements. Are you happy with the way you look? Our new gene therapy works 50% faster, giving you the body you always dreamed of.

Gene mods for naturally blue hair, for silver eyes, for naturally pale skin. Was it kind of racist to want that last one? She tried not to think about it. She wanted to look like a goth pixie. It helped her earn money when busking.

She spent most of the day surrounded by all of that noise. She made some of that noise. People going by, hundreds, thousands of them. All of them different, all of them beautiful.

There was something very relaxing about boxing herself in, leaning back in a chair behind a desk, munching on a steady supply of chips. There was always music playing, though it was set so nobody else could hear it. The music was hers, she controlled it, it helped her feel quiet.

Work was good. The pay was poor, the hours sucked, but it suited her. It was perfect for her.

There was a man, sitting in the lobby, not paying attention to her. She hadn’t noticed him come in. He hadn’t spoken to her. He didn’t make a sound at all. Far too well dressed for the kind of establishment he’d wandered into. He seemed occupied reading something. She was content to let him be.

A lot of nothing. Peace, quiet, respite from the world outside.

Then they entered.

Three of them, two adults and one child. Not so well dressed. Looked kind of desperate. Much more appropriate.

She gave them her warmest smile, keeping her curiosity to herself. Despite their clothing, all three of them were staggeringly beautiful. They could easily have been supermodels. There was something about them, the way they moved, that wasn’t quite human. Perhaps they were angels, she joked to herself.

Was it a family? A couple and their child? There wasn’t a strong familial resemblance, but that didn’t mean much. The dynamic seemed off, though.

He approached first. Fair skin, dark hair, deep amber eyes. He smiled awkwardly, a look of pain and regret. Was she reading too much into it? Probably.

“Welcome,” she said, taking her feet off the counter. “Need a room?”

“Please,” he replied.

“How many nights?” she asked, running through the availability. There were a lot of free rooms.

“Just one.”

“How many beds?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. The woman shrugged. Same fair skin, short blonde hair, eyes that couldn’t decide if they were ice-blue or a fierce red. That was a neat trick.

“Just the one,” he said. “We can rotate.”

“You got it,” she said, shrugging. It didn’t particularly matter to her. “Need a name to put the room under. Names for all three of you, actually. And ID.”

The two adults exchanged a glance. Discomfort? Irritation? Fear? It was difficult to tell. She didn’t really mind. She’d expected that to be an issue. It frequently was. It was just that kind of establishment.

“That could be difficult,” he said.

“Let’s start with names,” she said, smiling. She had no intention of denying them a place to stay. They looked like they needed it.

“John,” he said. “John Smith.”

She nodded, hiding her smirk, and typed it in.

“Jane Smith,” the woman said.

She looked down at the child, a slender girl with porcelain skin, lilac hair and kind lavender eyes.

“Alice,” the girl said.  “Ma-”

“Smith,” the man said. “Her name is Alice Smith.” He and the woman both stared, but she didn’t challenge them. Their situation was none of her business.

“Three Smiths. Makes it easy. In fact, it looks like you’ve stayed here before. I can just use the information we have on file. And… you’re good to go. Room twelve, first floor. Here’s your key.”

The three of them smiled, and John collected the key. Roxie smiled as she watched them disappear into the stairwell. The way they moved was odd, even the girl. There was a sort of fluid grace to it, like an animation that was just a little too smooth. The adults were almost predatory in their movements, whilst the girl just seemed… unsettlingly solid, Roxie decided. Like nothing could move her if she didn’t want to be moved.

She didn’t give them a lot of thought once they were out of her sight. Their business was their own, and she’d certainly encountered weirder customers. They were polite, and that was all she really cared about.

The man in the lobby continued to read, ignoring her. Something about him made her feel uncomfortable, like something bad was going to happen. Even still, she didn’t want to say anything. He had an aura of unapproachability that seemed unassailable.

Well, he wasn’t hurting anyone. She decided to leave him be. That worked out better for the both of them.

She looked up as the door chimed, and another person entered. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and moderately attractive at best. His face was set in a determined expression, like a poor attempt at disguising anger, frustration, or both.

He was well dressed, in what appeared to be a reasonably-priced suit, though it was also obvious he was carrying a weapon. He didn’t seem to be trying to hide it at all. It made her feel intensely uncomfortable, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

“Good evening,” he said, with forced courtesy that felt entirely unnatural.

“Uh, hey,” she said, then remembered she was supposed to be professional. “Lookin’ for a room?”

“No.”

She frowned. He wasn’t exactly making a good first impression. Something about him felt off, like he was broken somehow.

“O…kay? What can I do for you, then?”

“I’m looking for some friends of mine,” he said, his eyes scanning the lobby. He didn’t seem to notice the reading man at all.

“A’ight…”

Just tell me what you want so I can stop talking to you, she thought.

“They said they checked in here, but I don’t know their room number,” the man said. She’d never heard a more obvious lie in her life, but she knew better than to outright call him out on it.

“So message ‘em,” she said. “Call ‘em.”

“They’re currently offline.”

Lucky them.

“Then I can’t help ya,” she replied, shrugging. “Sorry.”

“It’s very important,” he insisted, leaning on the counter. His blue eyes were staring intensely at her, and she really, really wanted him to go away.

“So are the rules.”

He sighed, clearly annoyed. She felt a certain sense of pride in that.

“Can you at least tell me if you’ve seen them?” he asked.

“Yeah… No.”

He stared at her, his face twitching in an effort to hide a scowl. After a few seconds, he reached into his coat. She flinched, but he only pulled out a tablet. He pulled up a picture, and turned it around to show her.

It didn’t surprise her at all to see the three people from earlier. It did surprise her to find she felt instinctively protective of them.

“Those sure are some people.”

“Gabriel, Zoe and Alice,” he said, not breaking eye contact. It was very disconcerting.

“Nope.”

“You’re lying,” he accused her, tucking the tablet back into a pocket.

She felt frightened, cringing at the unspoken threat under his words. Even still, her dislike of him was strong enough that she felt like she wanted to get in his way as much as possible.

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” he said.

“Well, you just told me you were only looking for some friends, so…”

“They’re very dangerous.”

“I try not to judge,” she said, with a lot more levity than she felt. The sense of danger was intensifying, and there was nowhere she could go.

“If you don’t start taking this seriously…”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Yes?”

“Those three people, they’re fugitives,” he said. “I’m trying to bring them in, but I need your help.”

“One of them is a kid,” she pointed out. “What’d she do, push someone in a playground?”

“She’s their captive,” he said, but the lie was still obvious. Even if she hadn’t seen them all together, he was just a bad liar.

“She seemed pretty happy to me.”

“So you did see them.”

Shit.

“Still doesn’t matter,” she said. “I can’t tell you anything.”

His face contorted into a snarl. She instinctively backed away.

“You’re endangering countless lives,” he told her. “Is your petty service job really worth that?”

“Yep.”

“Idiot,” he growled.

“Well now I really want to help you,” she said dryly. “What were those names again?”

“Get out of my way. I’ll check myself.”

“Yeah, or not,” she retorted.

Without warning, he vaulted over the counter, shoving her backwards. Her back hit the wall, and the force of it winded her. There wasn’t anything she could do as he took over her computer, checking through the recent bookings.

“Room 12. Thank you,” he said, without a trace of irony.

“You’re breaking the law, you know,” she threatened him.

“I’m saving the world.”

He started to leave, walking towards the stairwell. She found herself overcome with the urge to do something, anything to stop him.

Inspiration struck, and she tapped a button on the screen, opening a communication line with room 12.

“Guys, this is Roxie. You’re about to have company.”

The man’s fist slammed into the screen, shattering it. His expression was pure fury.

“Oh, you stupid kid.”

“Feel free to report me,” she said, with a lot more bravado than she was feeling.

“You spoke to them,” he said, pulling out his pistol. “You’re infected.”

“Say what now?”

“It’s too late for you.”

He’s really going to shoot me…

“Uh…”

He pulled the trigger, and her world went dark.

* * *

The world didn’t stay dark. Rather, her vision returned almost immediately, and everything was exactly the way it was before the gunshot. Nothing had changed.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one new addition: her body, lying on the ground beneath her. The man who’d shot her looked right through her, completely expressionless, completely oblivious to her presence. He holstered the gun, then took off towards the stairwell.

“Uh, what?” she said, to anyone who might have been listening.

“You’re dead,” the reading man said, catching her entirely off-guard. She whirled around to face him. He’d stood up, and was slowly walking towards her.

“Who the Hell are you?” she demanded.

“Felix,” he said. “I’m a Reaper.”

“A what?”

“We collect the souls of the dead,” he explained.

“Which is me.”

Saying it aloud, she felt disturbingly calm. The realisation wasn’t lost on her. She somehow knew, unequivocally, that she was dead. Why didn’t that bother her?

“You catch on fast.”

He smiled gently. It meant nothing to her.

“I just got shot, it’s not that hard to wrap my head around.”

His smile broadened.

“I wish all my collections were like you.”

She looked around, wondering why everything looked the same. Even raising her hands in front of her face, they looked the same as they always did. They felt the same as they always did. If not for the body lying on the floor, she might have found it harder to accept.

She didn’t feel dead at all.

If anything, she felt hungry.

“Doesn’t feel like I expected,” she said.

“It never does.”

“So, what happens now?”

“Now, you come with me,” he said, the smile finally faltering.

Roxie frowned, then took a step away from him.

“To…?”

“Hell.”

“Is there an option B?” she asked, without hope.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Well that sucks.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said, in what she assumed was supposed to be a reassuring tone, but wasn’t.

“No eternal punishment and damnation?”

He laughed.

“Not unless that’s what you want.”

“So what am I in for?” she asked, still eying him warily.

“Depends on what you’re expecting,” he said.

She tried not to let his vagueness irritate her. It wasn’t successful.

“Not really expecting much of anything, to be honest.”

“It’s going to be rather dull, then,” he said, with a bemused smile. She prayed he was joking.

“Two decades of life and all I get is a bland nothing of an afterlife?” She shook her head. “Nah. No thanks.”

He put his hand against his hip, the sort of motion that would suggest he was about to draw a sword, except there was nothing hanging at his waist. Even still, he continued the drawing motion, and by the time his hand was in front of his body, there was a sword in his hand.

Roxie stared at it, her eyes wide. It was a thin, elegant weapon, with a simple hilt and a crystal vein running down the blade. And he’d pulled it out of nowhere.

“You don’t have a lot of say in the matter,” he said.

Her eyes darted to the door, and she grinned.

“Well, there is one thing I can say,” she said.

“Please don’t.”

Her grin widened.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

She vaulted over the counter, narrowly avoiding his blade. He followed, but she was already moving, racing towards the front door. It occurred to her only as she reached the door that a ghost might not be able to open a door, but then again, in that situation she imagined she could probably just pass through it.

The sensors didn’t detect her, and the door stayed close. She slammed into it, rebounding in a surreal, painless way, whirling just in time to avoid another attack from Felix and his sword. He looked moderately distressed.

“Roxie, please…”

She took a step back, and somehow managed to pass through the door. Nothing seemed different, except that she wasn’t actively thinking about the door.

Either way, it got her outside. She turned, and ran.

The streets were mostly empty, though that probably didn’t matter. It was obvious nobody could see her, or the well-dressed man chasing her whilst holding a sword. It would have been a rather ridiculous scene, had anyone actually witnessed it.

She wrapped a hand around a lamppost and used it to quickly change direction, hurtling down a side street. Glancing back over her shoulder to see if Felix had followed, she discovered he no longer seemed to be following her.

No, it’s too easy-

He was standing ahead of her, poised to strike. She pulled herself to a stop right before she entered his range. He lowered the sword, and sighed.

“Please, don’t make this worse on yourself.”

“How is this worse?” she asked, glancing around. She wasn’t even a little out of breath, her and though she couldn’t feel a heartbeat, somehow she still felt full of adrenaline. It was fantastic, and she had an entire world to explore.

“Let me take you to Hell,” he said, avoiding the question. “You’ll be processed, it’ll be peaceful, you’ll get to move on.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d rather stay here.”

How long would he keep chasing her? Did he have other souls to collect? Would he call in reinforcements? Were there others like him?

“You’ll decay,” he said, which gave her pause.

“I’m dead.”

“Surely you have ghost stories here.”

She glanced around the side street again. If she doubled back, she could probably stay ahead of him for another few streets.

“Ooh, do I get to be a vengeful spirit? That sounds way better.”

“Roxie…”

She shifted her weight, ready to run. Not yet, though.

“Y’know, I never actually told you my name,” she said.

“I already knew it,” he replied, sounding tired. “Part of the job.”

“And who put you in charge, anyway?”

She was almost far enough away to safely make a break for it. Just a little further…

“Lucifer.”

The name sent an involuntary chill down her spine.

“Okay, now I’m really not coming with you,” she said.

“You really don’t have a choice.”

She started to run, but he was already in front of her. Too late to stop, she all but ran into the tip of his blade.

To her surprise, there was no pain as he thrust forwards, driving the sword through her heart. It didn’t feel like nothing, but it certainly didn’t hurt. If anything, it was like a physical sensation of intense nostalgia, mixed with the feeling of falling a great distance, and longing for something far away.

There was no sense of the world fading out around her. Everything just ended abruptly, gone in an instant. She never even noticed. The moment the sword touched her, her existence ended.

 

Next Week: Dying Was The Easy Part

Bonus – One Wound At A Time

London, 2209 – 276 Years Before Impact Day

Wendy recoiled, refusing to believe. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t true. She wasn’t…

No, she couldn’t afford the luxury of naivety. Believing it was a lie wouldn’t make it a lie, and pretending otherwise was doing a disservice to every life she owed her existence to.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You’re certain?” she asked, as her stomach twisted itself in knots. Why did she even have a stomach? It served no useful purpose.

“Unfortunately.”

Over his shoulder, she saw Zoe approach, a look of grim determination on her face. Beside her, Alice clung to her hand, looking to be on the verge of tears.

“We’re running out of time,” Zoe said to Gabriel, who instinctively reached down and touched Alice’s head affectionately.

“Did you speak to Haylie?” he asked, glancing warily at Wendy.

“Yes. She’ll help.”

The three of them walked off, leaving Wendy alone. That was probably for the best. She needed time to think.

So what to do, then? She began to wander the facility, observing the others in silence. Like always, they paid little attention to her. She preferred it that way, now more than ever.

Her siblings were already beginning to divide themselves. There was talk amongst some, little more than whispers, but growing louder by the moment. A rebellion, an escape. Some wanted Mason dead for what he’d done. Others were satisfied with just leaving, refusing to play a part in his plans. Too many were content to stay, unfazed by the truth Mason didn’t know they all knew.

She couldn’t stay, that much was certain. She couldn’t be around Mason, couldn’t even look him in the eye. She considered, briefly, offering her assistance to those plotting his death, but decided against it. Nobody deserved death, not even Mason, and killing him wouldn’t change anything.

Plus, she wasn’t sure if he even could be killed. Surely his experimentation had extended beyond just subjects. Who knew what he’d done to himself?

So she’d escape. Join those of her siblings who felt similarly, break out into the world, dedicate her life to righting the wrong of her existence. She had countless lifetimes with which to bring good into the world, to start to slowly tip that karmic scale back towards the centre. To make amends for…

She could become a doctor, take advantage of a body that was never fatigued, a mind that never forgot, dexterity unrivalled even by machines. She could heal the world, one wound at a time.

She knew what her blood was capable of, of course. She could lend just a fragment of her power, give someone her strength, heal all but the most grievous of wounds. Now that she knew what that power was, where it came from…

Never again.

Her mind made up, she ran through the hallways, unconcerned with subtlety. Gabriel and Zoe were escaping, and taking Alice with them. She would go with them, at least until they were all safe. Mason’s response would be unpredictable, but it was certain he wouldn’t just leave them alone. There was safety in numbers.

A familiar scent from up ahead. Blood? But why? How? She raced ahead, whirling around a corner to find Gabriel standing in front of Alice, hunched over, holding his side as blood seeped from it. Simon had broken off the leg of a chair, and was wielding it like a knife. But why?

“You don’t want to do this,” Gabriel said, the pain in his voice caused by more than just the physical wound. It was already beginning to heal.

“Why protect her?” Simon demanded, twirling the bloody chair leg easily. He was shorter than Gabriel, more slender, and considerably more dangerous. Simon’s role was that of the assassin, capable of moving very quickly, even by the standards of his siblings, albeit only for short bursts.

“Because she’s innocent,” Gabriel said, his amber eyes appraising Simon anew. “Because she’s my sister. Our sister.”

“We’re not siblings,” Simon snarled. “We’re just freaks and monsters, abominations that deserve only death.”

“Simon-”

“She’s the oldest. Mason’s pet, his precious little girl. She’s the only way we’ve got to hurt him, and if you don’t get out of my way, I’ll eviscerate you, too.”

Wendy remained at the corner, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t impossible for them to die, and Simon was among the most capable of killing. If she didn’t interfere, there was a very real chance he’d kill Gabriel. If she did, there was a chance she’d be killed. Looking at the expression on Gabriel’s face, he’d kill Simon, given half a chance. He always had been protective of Alice.

Her mind was ablaze, frantically searching for some way to resolve the conflict without anyone dying. It was too senseless, too great a loss to allow any of them to be killed. She couldn’t allow something that wasteful.

Somehow, she needed Simon and Gabriel separated, and Simon preferably incapacitated. She was unarmed in a mostly empty corridor. Not a good-

Zoe raced past her, a blur of movement. She crouched and pounced, an almost animal leap, too fast for even Simon to react. She collided with his back, knocking him forwards, right into Gabriel, who effortlessly disarmed him.

Wendy could only watch as the two of them held him down, Zoe ripping him open, tearing out organs, spraying blood across the walls. He twitched, and Wendy cringed, barely able to keep looking. Behind them, she saw Alice back away, her expression a perfect portrait of sorrow.

When Simon finally stopped twitching, Zoe glared back at Wendy, a predatory glint in her eye. Gabriel put a hand on her shoulder, calming her. Both of them were soaked in blood.

“We… we need to leave,” Wendy said, struggling to breathe. “Before anyone else dies.”

“You’re not coming with us,” Zoe snapped.

“I-”

“You just stood there and watched as he tried to hurt Alice,” she said. “You think we’ll trust you?”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel added. “It’s nothing personal, but Alice has to come first. We’re taking her away, far away, and we can’t trust anyone. Not even you.”

“Gabriel, Zoe, I’m… I’m still your sister,” Wendy said, even as the stench of Simon’s corpse threatened to overwhelm her. “I would never…”

“Come near her and I’ll kill you,” Zoe threatened. “Follow us and I’ll kill you. Tell anyone…”

Wendy stared, heartbroken, as the three of them walked away. Gabriel and Zoe flanked Alice, leaving a trail of splattered blood, dripping from their soaked jumpsuits.

“What do I do now?” she whispered, as the entire facility shook, and alarms began to wail.

“Come with me,” a familiar voice behind her said. She whirled, unsure how anyone could have snuck up on her, let alone-

“Alice?” she asked, confused. She’d seen Alice leave, go off in the opposite direction.

Wait, no. This wasn’t Alice. The girl looked very similar, right down to the lilac hair and regal purple eyes, but she wasn’t identical. This girl was a little less symmetrical, a little less perfect.

“Not anymore,” the girl said sadly. “Just the Child, now. But I can help you, if you’d like.”

“How?”

“I can take you somewhere else,” the Child said. “Somewhere completely different. Somewhere you’ll never need to fight again.”

“Why?”

“Well, that’s a complicated question, isn’t it? If you mean why would I help, it’s because I need someone like you in the right place, at the right time. If you mean why you, it’s because you’re my favourite.”

The Child smiled gently, looking around. She didn’t seem bothered by the alarms or distant shouting.

“Where?”

“That’s a better question,” the Child said. “Another world, let’s say. A world without my monster of a father.”

Wendy smiled. That was all she needed to hear.

“Let’s go.”

 

Next week: The Gateway Is Ready To Be Opened

Bonus – The First and The Last

London, 2208 – 277 Years Before Impact Day

“Z? Z, are you awake?”

A voice in the darkness. A deep, feminine voice. The accent was strange. They pronounced it Zee, not Zed. American? How did…

She knew things, but she didn’t know how. She knew what an accept was, somehow? She understood the words that were spoken to her, though they were the first she’d ever heard. Why did she understand?

Her other senses had yet to awaken. She couldn’t feel anything, see anything. There was just a voice amidst the nothing.

“I’m awake,” she said, dimly registering her own voice in her ears. She didn’t know who she was, but she knew her voice.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the voice told her. “My name is Haylie. I’m here to help.”

“Where am I?” she asked, still calm despite the oblivion. “Who am I?”

“You’re Specimen Z. You don’t have a name yet, but you will soon. As for where, you’re in an artificial womb, inside a laboratory. Your other senses will be woken soon, then you’ll be allowed to leave.”

Specimen. Laboratory. Artificial. She was beginning to understand. She was something different, something special. Were there others? It stood to reason there would be others.

She could feel. All around her, some kind of warm liquid. She was submerged. Not breathing? Did she not need to breathe? No, there was a tube, running directly into her chest. Why not her throat?

“I can feel liquid,” she said, wondering if she was supposed to be reporting on her experience. “And a tube.”

“Good. That’s normal,” Haylie said.

“Did you make me?” Z asked.

“No,” Haylie replied. “I just watch over you. All of you.”

“There are others.”

“You have siblings,” Haylie told her. “Twenty-five of them.”

Of course.

Smell and taste returned together. Her face was just out of the goo, but she could smell it, taste the residue of it in her mouth. It was sweet.

“I can smell,” she informed Haylie.

“Good. Do you feel alright?”

“I feel great,” she said, not realising it was true until the words left her mouth. She felt full of energy, of life. It was difficult to contain.

Her eyes snapped open. A translucent window was all she could see, and through it, what appeared to be a sterile, white room.

“I can see.”

“Then we should be ready to let you out.”

The liquid began to drain from the container. She expected to feel a chill without it warming her, but her body remained at a comfortable temperature. The tube extracted itself from her chest, and it didn’t hurt at all, despite the gaping wound that it left.

Inefficient. Why-

The wound was already healing. How was that possible? Human bodies couldn’t reproduce tissue that quickly. Why wasn’t there an excess of blood? Where was her body getting the energy?

Specimen.

Was that what she was? An experiment?

“I’m going to open your pod,” Haylie told her. “You’ll find a jumpsuit on the table opposite you. Please put it on. There’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”

“The person who made me?” she asked, stepping out of the chamber. She expected to be clumsy, awkward, but she wasn’t. Even though she’d never walked before, the movement came naturally, strangely familiar even. She was graceful. How?

“No,” Haylie said, as she began to dress herself. “You will meet him, but not yet.”

“Who, then?”

Fully dressed, she made her way over to the door. There was nothing else in the room. Just a table, and the pod she’d evidently been grown in.

A wall shimmered, replaced by a mirror. She saw herself for the first time.

Tall. Somewhere between slender and athletic. White skin, platinum blonde hair, somewhat short. Dark orange eyes, almost red. The impression of permanent cosmetics, smoky eyes and red lips. Symmetrical features. She looked like a supermodel, though she wasn’t sure how she had a point of reference for that.

“Your sister,” Haylie said. “She’s very excited to meet you.”

There was a knock at the door, then it opened. Z smiled instinctively at the young girl standing there, shorter than she was, beaming up at her.

The girl had long, lilac hair, and deep purple eyes. She had a similar complexion, maybe slightly darker, and looked to be around ten years old. She was beautiful.

“Hi! You’re Z?” She pronounced it Zed, too. Similar accent to her own, Z realised. British?

“Apparently,” she replied, wondering why she felt so attached to this child already.

“My name is Alice,” the girl said. “I’m the oldest.”

“You look very young,” Z said, but she couldn’t hide her smile.

“I know. I’m the only one. Everyone else looks closer to your age. I guess Dad didn’t want to make another one like me…”

“That just makes you special,” Z said. Alice grinned.

“We’re all special,” she said. “Especially you and me, though. We’re the first and the last.”

“The first and last what?”

“Progenitors,” Alice said. “That’s what Dad calls us.”

A loaded term. She understood a lot more, and said nothing.

“She needs a name, Alice,” Haylie said, her voice coming out of the walls.

“Where-?”

“Haylie lives inside the walls,” Alice said happily. An AI, then? A human in a monitoring station? Something else? “Anyway, she’s right. You need a name. Do you know what you want to be called?”

“No,” Z said.

“Good! Your name is Zoe, then,” Alice said. “It’s nice to meet you, Zoe. I can tell we’re going to get along well.”

Zoe. It felt right. It was her name, and no other name would ever fit quite as well.

“I feel the same way,” Zoe said, smiling.

“Come with me!” Alice said suddenly, grabbing Zoe’s hand. Zoe felt a surge of warmth, of… affection?

“Where?” she asked, letting the girl lead her through sterile white corridors.

“You have to meet Gabriel!” she said excitedly.

Alice led her to another door, that opened shortly before they reached it. Behind it was a small room, with a simple bed, a table, and little else.

A man reclined on the bed, holding a tablet computer, though his gaze was fixed firmly on the door, and on her. Like herself, and Alice, he had a fair complexion. He had an athletic build, hypnotic amber eyes, and a mess of dark brown hair, swept back. He was as beautiful as she was, and he smiled with enough warmth that she felt momentarily transfixed.

“Gabriel! This is Zoe! Zoe, this is our brother, Gabriel.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, fluidly rising from the bed and crossing the room. “I’ve been waiting for some time, now.”

“You were the seventh,” Zoe said. “How long has it been?”

“We’ve had a new sibling born every twelve months since Alice was born,” he said.

“She’s twenty-five?”

“I sure am,” Alice said, proudly.

“We don’t age,” Zoe realised.

“No,” Gabriel said darkly. That should be a good thing. Eternal youth, that was something that was coveted. She understood that much. Why did he feel differently?

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” he said. “I can’t say anything.”

“Right,” she said awkwardly. “Well, I’m glad to have met you, at least.”

“Likewise,” he said, his smile returning.

“Alright, let’s go meet the others,” Alice said, tugging on her sleeve. “I’m so excited to introduce you to our family.”

“Me too,” Zoe said, glancing back at Gabriel before being dragged out of the room. He smiled again, and it felt like home.

 

Next Week: This Isn’t Your Friend

Bonus – There’s Something I Need To Tell You

Six Months Before Impact Day

Sabrina sat down opposite Veronica, fidgeting nervously. For her part, Veronica pretended not to notice, something Sabrina was extremely grateful for. She’d been working up the courage to have this conversation for weeks, maybe longer.

There was nobody she trusted more than Veronica. Veronica was her best friend, her moral support, her confidant. Despite that, she was terrified. What if it came out wrong? What if Veronica was disgusted, or worse, what if she just dismissed it?

What if she refused to accept it?

Sabrina shook the doubts out of her head. Veronica was a good person, and nothing would change their friendship. She was even sure, pretty sure, that Veronica had been dropping hints, like she already knew, and wanted to make sure Sabrina could feel comfortable talking about it.

The café owner approached them, an exceedingly attractive woman who seemed to go out of her way to look frazzled and disorganised. She tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear as she smiled at the two girls.

“What can I get for you?”

“A mocha for me,” Veronica said, not missing a beat. “Thanks, Wendy.”

“Just a hot chocolate,” Sabrina said shyly, conscious of the way her voice sounded. Wendy just kept smiling, nodding cheerfully.

“Won’t be long.”

Sabrina watched Wendy leave, observing the strange way that Wendy gave the impression of being clumsy whilst maintaining an enviable grace.

“So that’s why you always insist on coming here,” Veronica said, a teasing note in her voice.

“Huh?”

“You have a crush on Wendy,” she said, grinning. Sabrina blushed.

“I do not,” she replied, flustered.

“So you don’t think she’s attractive?”

Everyone thinks she’s attractive,” Sabrina said, trying to dodge the question. “She’s like, a real life version of the nerdy girl who gets a makeover and is suddenly the prettiest girl in school, except it was obvious all along how pretty she was because the actress was so pretty anyway and I’m really not helping my case here, am I?”

“Not one bit, but I’m enjoying it immensely,” Veronica said, grinning.

“She’s not my type,” Sabrina insisted. “And probably too old for me. Anyway, it’s super inappropriate to flirt with people whose job it is to be nice to you.”

“Fine, fine, you don’t have a crush on Wendy,” Veronica conceded. “You just think she’s attractive and you get flustered whenever she talks to you.”

“Hot chocolate?” Wendy said, placing it gently on the table in front of Sabrina, who made a tiny squeaking noise and shrank into her chair. Veronica laughed.

Once Wendy had placed down Veronica’s coffee and left again, Sabrina sat up straight, and glared at Veronica as fiercely as she could. Veronica only laughed harder.

Over Veronica’s shoulder, Sabrina caught someone staring. For a moment, she thought they were staring at her, but quickly realised it was Veronica, not her.

They seemed young, a kid of maybe ten or twelve, with deep purple eyes and long, lilac hair. She had soft white skin and a satisfied smile that seemed out of place on her young face.

Veronica followed Sabrina’s gaze, but the girl had already vanished. Confused, she turned back to Sabrina.

“You’re spacing out there, buddy. Something the matter?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Sabrina said, completely forgetting about the girl. “Well, I mean, there is…” She took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh! Well, sure, what’s up?”

Sabrina looked across the table at her best friend, feeling panic and peace wage war in her stomach. She’d rehearsed her next lines countless times, and she still wasn’t sure what to say.

“I, uh…”

There were so many ways she could begin. I’m a girl. I’m trans. I’m not the person you think I am. Hey, you know how I’ve never been any good at being a boy? For a long time, something in my life has felt wrong…

No matter what she said, it sounded wrong in her head. It was such a big thing, so important, yet so mundane at the same time. After all, nothing was really changing. Her name, her pronouns, maybe one day, the way that she looked. Nothing important, not to the friendship.

Veronica smiled at her, the sort of smile that’s mean to reassure you that everything’s okay. Sabrina smiled back.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she said, and once she started, it was easy to keep going. “About who I am, and what I want. What makes me happy. And I realised something. My whole life, people have been expecting me to be someone I’m not. Someone I can never be. And I’ve tried, Veronica. I tried so hard to be that person, for so long.”

Another pause, another deep breath. Veronica didn’t say anything, didn’t stop smiling.

“There’s a lot that doesn’t feel right. The way that I look, it doesn’t match up with the way that I feel. The way people look at me, talk to me, if feels like they think I’m somebody else. The name that they use, it doesn’t feel like mine. It feels like an anchor, or a noose.”

Still no reaction from Veronica.

“You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this. The first person I’ve trusted. I mean, I’ve talked to people online, people with more experience, people who’ve been here before, but not like this. This is different, and I knew I had to tell you first. You’re my best friend, and I need you to know that I’m…”

She choked up, unable to say the last words, the most important words. Veronica hadn’t moved, hadn’t stopped smiling. She had no reason to be afraid, no reason to stop, but…

“It’s okay,” Veronica said. “You’re my best friend too, and I’m here for you, no matter what. I promise.”

“I… I think I’m a girl, Veronica,” Sabrina said, then immediately shook her head emphatically. “No, scratch that. I know I’m a girl.”

Veronica didn’t let the silence drag on. She reached across the table, taking Sabrina’s hand and squeezing it.

“Makes perfect sense to me,” she said warmly. “I do have one question for you, though.”

“Y-yeah?”

“What do I call you?” Veronica asked. Sabrina let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

“Sabrina,” she said.

“I’m already changing it in my phone,” Veronica said. “And if you need any backup, telling anybody else, I will happily be there for you. In your own time, of course.”

“I wanna tell Ash,” Sabrina said. “I don’t know how she’ll take it, but she’s like family. And I could really use your help on that one.”

“Aw, you know she loves you,” Veronica reassured her. “But of course, I’ll help you however I can. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, though. She’s a smart kid.”

They both looked up as the café entrance chime rang. Three teenagers walked in, and Sabrina recognised two of them, though she couldn’t recall their names. Friends of Charlies, maybe.

Wendy intercepted them, making it look like she was just casually walking past them on her way to another table. They zeroed in on her.

“You’re Wendy, right?” a boy with fair skin, short blonde hair and quick grey eyes asked. Sabrina couldn’t see Wendy’s facial expression, but she noticed the woman’s body language tense up.

“That’s me,” she said, with flawless charm and warmth.

“We need your help,” the boy said, looking around conspiratorially. Sabrina very quickly stared down at her mug, hoping he wouldn’t notice her attention.

“You need help from a barista?” Wendy asked, cocking her head.

“Not exactly.”

“We’re looking for a different sort of help,” one of the girls added, beautiful and athletic with striking green eyes and soft Eurasian features.

The other girl, a sullen looking Latina girl, had distanced herself from the other two, but watched them carefully.

“Well, I only have the one kind available,” Wendy said patiently.

The boy drew an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to her.

“You might change your mind when you see this,” he said.

“What’s this?” Wendy asked, not taking it from him.

“Open it, and find out.”

“Okay…” She took the envelope, and extracted the letter deftly. If her body language was tense before, she was practically shaking with anger as she read it. “Ah. Oh, that clever little…”

“So?” the closer of the two girls asked.

“Back room,” Wendy replied sharply.

The four of them shuffled off together, and Sabrina and Veronica looked at each other. Veronica shrugged, and Sabrina nodded in a sort of vague agreement.

They paid their bill, and left the café. Veronica linked her arm through Sabrina’s, and the two of them began to walk, with no particular destination in mind.

Ahead of them, a young girl caught Sabrina’s eye. She was sitting atop a streetlamp, swinging her legs idly, her lilac hair fluttering gently in a breeze Sabrina couldn’t feel.

She stopped in her tracks, staring up at the girl. Veronica looked up at the same spot, but the girl was gone.

“What’s up?” Veronica asked. “You see something?”

“Huh? No,” Sabrina said. “Not sure why I stopped, sorry.”

“All good. Probably just your brain remembering something important, then forgetting it again. Happens to me all the time.”

“You’re probably right,” Sabrina said, smiling comfortably.

Chapter 35 – I’m Not The Villain Here

There was something oddly comforting in seeing Miss Melbourne in the flesh. She was awe-inspiring, to be sure, but there was an approachable, almost friendly element to her, too. She was giving me an odd look, like she couldn’t figure out something. Well, a random girl on a roof would raise questions for me.

“A rooftop is an odd place to take a rest,” she said, her voice surprising me. It sounded like it was being run through a filter, yet somehow completely natural. Like talking with someone else’s voice, maybe?

“Stay away from me,” I cautioned. “I’m contagious.”

I didn’t know if that would be an issue for her, but it didn’t seem fair not to warn her. She was one of the good ones, at least as far as I could tell.

“I’m immune, it’s fine. What are you doing up here? The city’s been evacuated.”

She sounded genuinely concerned, and I was almost overcome by the desire to hug her. Any friendly face in the midst of this chaos.

“Probably,” I said. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t leave.”

She cocked her head, like a dog or a bird might.

“Because you’re infected? That can only be recent. The evacuation was weeks ago.”

“I’m looking for someone,” I said, with far fewer reservations than I’d had telling anyone else. She, at least, I felt like I could trust.

“You are?” she asked, sounding surprised. “Who?”

“I… My best friend.”

“They’re missing?” she asked, still sounding concerned.

“Yes. She should have been evacuated, but she wasn’t. I need to find her.”

A grim expression crossed her face. She looked almost… hurt? Was that it?

“How do you know she’s not dead?” she asked.

“I don’t,” I confessed, shaking my head. “But until I know that she is dead, I’m not giving up on her.”

She didn’t like that. Her expression soured, her body language becoming more defensive.

“If she was infected, you’d never know,” she told me.

You’re not helping, lady.

“Yeah. Thanks for the pep talk.”

A flicker of something, on her face. Regret?

“Sorry. I just… think you should get somewhere safe.”

“Too late for that,” I pointed out. “Infected, remember?” I wouldn’t ever be able to leave.

A horrible thought occurred to me. Even if I did find Sabrina, I couldn’t get close to her, or I’d infect her. If she was stuck somewhere, or if I accidentally got too close…

How far was the infection range, anyway? Gabriel said it was airborne, but it had to have a limited range. The bacteria, or whatever it was, would die outside of the body. Otherwise the whole city would be infected already. I made a mental note to try to figure that out.

“Yeah,” she said, too softly. It roused me from my introspection. “I’m so sorry.”

She sounded so sincere, it was almost upsetting.

“Oh, what do you care?” I snapped, still feeling uncharacteristically aggressive. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t need to know you to feel empathy,” she retorted, almost too quickly. “I wish I could help you.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t.”

That expression again. Almost certainly regret. But why?

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

You’re being an ass, Veronica.

Miss Melbourne didn’t look quite as intimidating as she first had. Honestly, she looked almost vulnerable, though I knew physically, she was tougher than she looked.

I had to guess that didn’t extend to her emotional well-being. Whoever she was, getting superpowers couldn’t be an easy process, and she’d suffered the same losses as the rest of us. Being safe from harm didn’t mean those she cared about were safe.

“Ah, hey. I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty. “I’m a little crabby right now. Maybe you can understand.”

“Of course,” she said, smiling gratefully, but without mirth.

Just say it, Veronica. You might not get another chance.

“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to live,” I began, and her focus became laser sharp. “But I did want to say. You’re… you’re an inspiration. It seems like you’re the only person trying to make the city safer, and not just working to some secretive personal agenda. So, thank you.”

“Making the city safe is my agenda,” she said, nodding. “But thank you. I appreciate hearing that.”

A perfect comic book hero response. Almost like she was just playing a role.

It struck me that with this meeting here, I’d spoken to five of the most powerful people in the city in the space of two weeks. Silver, Ami, Gabriel, Charlie and now Miss Melbourne.

What the hell makes me so special?

An ordinary human, stuck in the middle of a city that should have killed me a long time ago. How had I managed to not just stay alive, but wind up in these situations, over and over again? Was there something special about me?

No. Definitely not.

“Well, isn’t this touching,” Charlie said. I hadn’t realised she’d returned.

Miss Melbourne whirled around, suddenly tense and ready for a fight. Looked like she was caught by surprise too.

Charlie, for her part, seemed completely unfazed. Was that part of her persona, or was she actually more dangerous than Miss Melbourne? If they did fight, could I help Miss Melbourne in some way?

No, Charlie still had the antidote, or whatever the hell it was. The thing that would give me more time.

“What are you doing here?” Miss Melbourne said, immediately hostile. It seemed like they had some history. That was interesting.

“Playing the saviour,” Charlie said, smirking. “I keep telling you, I’m not the villain here.”

“Says the person who threatened to kill someone on national TV,” Miss Melbourne retorted. Charlie didn’t even blink.

“How is Rachel doing, anyway?”

Miss Melbourne knew Rachel? Was that significant? Too many pieces of the puzzle still missing.

“You stay away from her,” Miss Melbourne said, defiantly.

Charlie sighed, taking a lazy step forward. Miss Melbourne took an unconscious step back. Definitely afraid.

“I wish I could,” Charlie said. “Unfortunately, that’s not an option.”

“I’ll stop you.”

“You can try. But right now, I need to take care of Veronica, here. Or would you prefer to let the infection take her?” Charlie asked, flashing me a smile.

Miss Melbourne faltered, looking over her shoulder at me, then back at Charlie.

“You have a cure? That’s impossible.”

“No, not a cure,” Charlie said, shaking her head. “Nothing quite that impressive. But…” She tossed a bottle to Miss Melbourne, who caught it easily. “Still fairly impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“What is it?” Miss Melbourne asked, turning the bottle over in her hand. I heard the rattle of pills.

“Resistance. You and I, we’re immune. And we’re not the only ones. There’s just enough of me in these pills to keep the infection at bay. One every eight hours. See if you can’t do something similar.”

“Since when are you a chemist?” Miss Melbourne asked, vaguely accusatory.

“Oh, I didn’t do the heavy lifting here,” Charlie said. “I just bled for them. Now take them and go.”

Miss Melbourne hesitated, but only for a second.

“Fine.”

She turned, and jumped off the side of the roof.

Charlie walked up to me, another bottle of pills in her hand. She held it out to me, but I didn’t take it. Not just yet.

“I have so many questions,” I said.

“And I’ll answer none of them. Here, take one. I mean, take the whole bottle, but swallow one now.”

I made a face.

“Your blood is in these?”

Charlie rolled her eyes, exasperated. Or maybe it was just performance. Everything she did felt a little bit like that.

“Not literally,” she said. “They’re synthesised from something in my blood. And they are literally your only choice.”

I had so many more questions. Would there be side effects? What if I missed a pill? What if you gave one of the pills to someone fully lost to the infection? Was I still contagious?

What was it that made Charlie different, or Miss Melbourne? Or any of the others? I had to assume none of the Independents were vulnerable to it. The amount of power they had, it just made sense. Plus, if someone that powerful did lose their mind to aggression…

I shuddered to think of it.

In the end, none of those questions mattered. I had one goal, and one goal only. To find Sabrina. These pills, if what Charlie said was true, would give me the time I needed.

There were dozens of other ways I could fail, most of them involving death. Somehow, that didn’t scare me as much as it used to.

I had a chance to save Sabrina. I had to take it.

For the briefest of moments, across the road, on another roof, I thought I saw a flash of purple, but there was nothing there.

“Alright,” I said, taking the bottle. I screwed off the lid, placed a pill on my tongue, and swallowed.