Once Time Passed (A Burdened Novel Book 4), page 32
“I’m Tracey, he’s Nathan.”
“Tracey.” He nods. “Nathan.” He meets my eyes. “I’m Trevor.”
“How old are you, Trevor? You look pretty young to be on your own,” Tracey says.
Trevor cleans off a table piled high with boxes and more newspapers. I pick up one that falls near my foot. The headline reads, ‘Alien Evasion or The Rapture.’ In the supporting image, however, the five people pictured, with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders, appear happy.
“I’m fifteen. I’ve been living down here for almost a year now.” He waves us to the couch. “Come sit down. Sorry this place is a mess. I never have company, and I don’t have much room for storage.” He’s right. His small home is only big enough to hold the couch and the table with the towers of boxes and newspapers. Our backs are just about against the wall, separated by stacks of boxes and piles of newspapers. The three windows are covered in cardboard and paint that blends in with the color of the black, brick walls.
“You’ve been hiding down here for a long time,” Tracey says. “Don’t you need things like groceries and water?”
“I was a sophomore in high school when things went to shit around here. My dad and I used to go camping and we did a lot of hunting. I quickly learned how to maneuver through the street without being noticed. Only at night, though. Those things seem to think we only function during the day, so those of us who aren’t afraid to venture out, only go out at night. Things started getting weird around here about two years ago. It started at school and slowly took over the entire town, until people either killed themselves or we became one of them.” Trevor snatches two bottles of water from a fridge stored within a box that’s also stacked high with more boxes. He hands them to us. “We. . .” He clears his throat. “I. I didn’t know what to, but every time I pressed my dad’s shotgun to my chin, I heard him tell me, fight for your life.” He leaves us, heading over to the two box piles stacked as tall as him that are sitting in the corner against the wall. It’s across the floor from a cot. Opening the flaps of the boxes, he reveals a TV and game system. “Dad always told me, put down that game and go play outside. Now I’m wishing I can. But the game keeps me entertained. Everything works as normal, except the people.”
I cross the floor to the couch he offered and take a seat. “Thanks for helping us out. We’d been driving for hours before we pulled off for gas. Now my trucks broke down.”
“Maybe it’s not by mistake why we’re here. . .” Tracey hints.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“Like, maybe we’re supposed to help them.”
“Help us how?” Trevor quickly jumps up from the cot, comes over, and squats down in front of us. “Do you know why this happened?” His sharp brown eyes widen and his breathing quickens eagerly. “Can you make it stop?”
“We don’t know why,” I cut off Tracey, giving her an eye to not tell so much. “And we don’t know if there’s a way to help. But,” I take a pause. “We’re grateful you’ve helped us.”
Trevor nods, rising. “You’re welcome.” Shrugging, he adds, “I guess I’m just glad to actually be talking to normal people for once, or just having someone to talk to. I’ll let you two rest and later tonight, we can go out so you can see what I’m talking about.”
It’s never been easy to find comfort in anyone’s home, but I sink onto the couch and want to kick off my boots. I don’t and just lay my head back. I’m beat. Sparks, watch our backs. I’m closing my eyes for a second.
Of course, Nate. I’ll learn what I can about what happened here.
You’re the best.
I easily knock out. My Burdened has been a resting bear in hibernation sense seeing Jason. It’s never quivered or coward, but it has me second guessing my strength. I’d think the opposite would happen, but we’re broken down. Worn the fuck out. I can’t physically take any more loss. It’s hungry, and I’ve never deprived it this long without its kind of food. The longer we go like this, the worst it’s going to get, and I won’t be any good up against a human yet alone the Qualms.
I wake to find Tracey playing the game system with Trevor, both sat on a cot that’s about a foot off the ground. Muffling headphone’s sit comfortably against their ears and the room is securely silent. I study Trevor again, seeing nothing but a boy covering his sadness with courage and strength.
Him or Tracey has laid a blanket across me that I tug off a toss to the other side of the couch. I stand to stretch and nearly hit my fist against the ceiling, and when I throw my arms out at my sides, I punch a box. It’s crowded, Trevor’s little hut, but warm and cozy from the chaos afoot on the other side of these walls.
“Hey.” Tracey pulls the headphones from her head, as she stands from the cot. She crosses the floor to me and slips her hands across my sides. Tracey takes hold of me and holds my gaze.
I push my hand over her hair then copy her action, resting my hold on her hips. “You’re okay?”
We could stay here with Trevor. He’s lonely without anyone to help lookout for him or talk to, and we don’t have anywhere to go.
I kiss her forehead. “We’ll see, babe,” is all I’m able to promise.
“I hope you had a comfortable sleep, Nathan. I was telling Tracey that since it’s night, after you woke up, we can go outside so you can see our town. Unless you don’t want to.”
My stomach growls. “You have something to eat around here?”
Trevor’s hopeful expression dies. What he wants from me, to deliver them from whatever the hell is going on, I can’t give him. I don’t want to get the kid’s hope up so he can be even more disappointed when he finds out the truth. “Yeah, I do.” Trevor goes to a box stacked three high in the corner. From it, he grabs a few whole grain bars and tosses me two.
“Thanks,” I say.
He and Tracey meet eyes, seeming to have some kind of communication or agreement. I look the two over, taking a bite out of the bar, ready for either of them to come out with it. When they don’t, after their eyes flick back and forth between each other and me, I blurt, “What?”
“We should go see what’s going on, Nate. I mean, the worse that could happen is they recognize you. They won’t try anything, there’s no one else they can wipe out.”
“No one else?” I ask, insulted by her carelessness. “There are plenty, Tracey. Nick, Cindy, and Curtis, who don’t need to see that black river we stepped in back home. There are plenty they can wipe out, Tracey. Plenty!” I snap, but keep myself from yelling. “What’s done, between us is done. We can’t take that back. But to save the little bit of family we have left, the last of our life, are you not willing to avoid risking losing them at all costs.”
“I am,” she says with regret staining her teary eyes. Her hands raise, palms up. “But I also see a nation at risk of being overtaken, and realize there’s something that needs to be done about it, and they only way to beat it is to first understand the enemy so we can then figure out how to take them out.”
I rub my wrist across my forehead, knowing she’s right. But, maybe, I’m scared. Maybe I fear losing her, maybe I fear hurting her any more than I already have, maybe I’m hurting from feeling boxed in by the minimal options available to me. My back is against a wall, and I don’t know what to do.
It’s never easy to admit defeat, not when, for my entire life I had the world in the palm of my hands, called the shots because I knew I could take on anything and win. But, I’ve been losing this battle for years. And I’m damn tired of losing.
Against my better judgment, after allowing their pleading expressions to break me down, I tell them, “Let’s go.”
A Silent Heartbeat
Nathan
Two- and three-story homes along a main street, provides us shadow from the moonlight and fire burning lanterns. We creep along side streets and back yards, easing our way through the neighborhood. Each breath of air is accompanied with dust and an odd stench of death that twitches my Burdened in its resting place, but not enough to get a reaction from it. It triggers a thought as to why it quivered away at the sight of my deceased family and why it can’t resonate in place with the man I’m trying to be today. A chill stabs down my spine and the marking on my back burns to life, stinging worse with my movement. I shouldn’t be depriving him, but knowing the more connected it and I are, the closer I could become what the Qualms and everyone else wants from me. I want to be as far away from that scum as I can. Then, if I want to be strong, it has to be strong.
I throw a glance at Tracey, and I salivate, it and I knowing the maximum strength would come from her. There’s also Trevor, but he’s a kid. . . At least with Tracey, I can make it not hurt her. My beast sends another stab down my spine, shining light on my doubtfulness, my uncertainty, how I’m willing not to go out to battle because it’s not with me. Maybe it’s right, I won’t go out because I know how weak I am right now.
Shit!
You okay? Tracey asks.
I shake my head. I’m hungry.
You had like six of those bars, Nate.
Not that kind of hungry.
She looks away from me, muttering, Oh.
I hate to ask.
You’ve never asked. . .
I’ve never needed to.
Will it hurt?
A little. Maybe a little more than a little. But if you don’t want to. I’ll find another way.
What, one of these possessed by Qualm-humans? Or Trevor? Your options are kind of limited here.
Which is the only reason I’m even asking you, Sparks. I wouldn’t. I usually couldn’t. But I’m dead out here. I show her my shaking hands.
Can you hold it together?
That’s what I’ve been trying to do.
We come up on a park, crossing over a parking lot to a line of trees. The center of the park is dipped in like a bowl, with large concrete stairs leading down to the grass. Sixteen gather in the circle, laughing and chatting. They go unaware of their surroundings.
“Every night,” Trevor starts. “All of them come here and stand around until this one guy comes to check in. They likely give him the same update because he just nods and leaves, but I’m never able to hear what they say.”
We watch for a while, ducked behind a long concrete bench. They do nothing but chat and laugh as humans would at a party. There’s no music, food, or beverages. They’re just mingling and conversing conservatively with each other.
“When’s the last time you saw them, Trevor,” I ask.
“I’ve not come out here lately, but every time that I have, they’ve come.”
I nod. A hint of light appears out of nowhere, as an oval of space peacefully waves like water. From it, two steps before the crowd.
Tracey anxiously squeezes my arm, and I reassure her with a pat on her shaking hand. We should make our move, Nate, she says.
I shake my head. We won’t win if we do. We have no idea how we’d defeat them. They’ve overpowered and outsmarted us too many times. Let’s be smart about this. She’s squeezing the shit out of my arm, but steadies her angst.
Lunis and Laine—my father in Laine’s body—greet their constituents. A simple bow of the head seems to serve as hello. Lunis asks, “Are things comfortable, have you gotten acclimated to this environment?”
“We have,” one responds. Us being behind them I’m unable to see who. “The humans didn’t take well to our entry and we’ve had to care for them in a way that is considered inhumane to their culture. However, when meeting new to us beings, they are unable to tell the difference, which we’ve considered, what they would call, a win. We believe, with this development of experimentation, we can live here, either by being and even by species for those who care to not be hosts, once enough of us fill this world. We’ll be easier accepted.”
“We’ve considered that in our true form, we can live freely here as well, since we will no longer be. . .”
“Minorities,” someone finishes for her.
“What is a way to make this quicker, easier?” My father asks.
“We acquire the possession of will that these here have an ability of free will, which we are not accustomed to. They have choices, which is what we have longed for since our creation. If we could acquire that will, we can blend the world with ease. We can live among the humans. And then we can have free will. Everyone will be accepted.”
“Live among them,” Lunis scoffs. “We are aiming to live above them. You cannot believe all this work is to befriend a species who believes they’re better than any other being in the universe. They can’t even breathe without being told, they can’t live without the need or desire of someone to do it with—for—them. They’re greedy, selfish, psychotic implants that happened to get the better end of the stick. They,” he emphasizes, “will live among us. They’ll be food when we need it, slaves when we desire it, a filler for our new world.”
“But,” one says from the back of the crowd. “We didn’t agree to take over, we only wanted to know freedom.”
My Father laughs, “As you say from the body of another. You’re a part of this now and you’ll follow guidelines accordingly.”
“What is our next requirement?” a few ask at the same time.
“Grow, expand. Get out of this town and see what the rest of the world is like. Feel free to leave these bodies and explore others. Test your limits. See what you can become. Try something other than humans. This world is your oyster. Use as you please!”
He’s cut off by the same concerned voice from earlier. “It is hard work acquiring a body that will suit us, Lunis. You are asking us to enter and exit against the mind, body, and soul, which is nearly impossible every time it’s attempted. Either we die or they do.”
“Then get the tool that will make it easier. Had you acquired it when ordered, there’d be no complaints. I want the nation. We, need the nation. There are billions of them and zillions of us!” he shouts. “We deserve this land too. We deserve this freedom as well. Do we not?”
They cheer with agreement.
“Then do what needs to be done.” My father and Lunis exit back through the gateway and the, now, mob race from their place, scattering in different directions to neighboring homes.
“He was lying to us,” Tracey whispers to herself.
But, I comment, “You couldn’t have possibly thought my father would ever tell the truth. The only thing he was truthful about was why he came there that night. We likely threw him off by being there, but guaranteed, no later than a second after we left, he was back, getting Lunis out.”
“How familiar are you two with them?” Trevor cuts in.
“Just a bit. This issue isn’t just happening here. It seems to be spreading, slowly.”
“Like a virus,” I add.
“Let’s head back before someone sees us,” Trevor says, rising.
When we make it to where Trevor’s bunker, I pull Tracey aside. “Trevor, head in. I’ll knock when we return.”
“Okay. Just keep your eyes peeled. They appear out of the darkness like some kind of ghost some times.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Tracey and I continue to stroll through the shadows, and stumble upon an abandoned farm house surrounded by trees. More quaint then the bunker and a hell of a lot more spacious. I scan the area for anyone who may have already taking up home in this place, and, to my delight, it’s empty.
Tracey waves her hand in front of her face, wafting the dust we’re kicking up. “How long has this place been vacant?” She goes to a table covered with a sheet. Tugging it off, she reveals a wood table, and then she removes the sheets from three chairs.
“It’s possible that this town has been taken over for years, Tracey. Maybe the person who’d previously lived here was in the process of selling it before things went to shit.”
“We’d nearly be able to live here if it weren’t so out in the open.” She removes the sheet from a coffee table and couch sat in front of it. “You feel okay?” she asks, sitting.
There’s a pinch in the back of my neck, a beg from the beast. I try to tap into her mind and body. She knows the question is coming and she’s nervous; her fearing my beast may hurt her, but she can feel my strain and how much I need it.
I sit beside her. “Just say no.”
“Just tell me what I should do.”
“It can be unpainful, if you’re okay with. . . um . . .”
“Whatever it takes,” she cuts me off. “When you’re stronger, I’m stronger. We need to be at our best so we can stop this, or fight to the finish.”
I pull her on to my lap. “Who are you, and why are you so accepting?”
She tries to hide her smile. “Honestly, making you happy makes me happy. It’s the only thing I’m somewhat in control of. I don’t know, maybe, you’ve forever been a part of me, and I totally, completely, inevitably live for you.”
“You do.” I strike forward, laying her back to the couch. Her breaths are heavy and her eyes close. I care greatly if I hurt her, and I don’t want to do this here, but the only way to make it completely painless is to sex her while I feed, which could result in my beast taking full control, and in the end, maybe, hurting her.
I play a million different scenarios in my mind, trying to determine a painless way.
“What’s taking so long,” she asks, heart pounding, breaths slow, nerves warming her body.
My beast urges me on. I breathe Tracey in, savoring the flavor of her aura. It’s not a question of which I’ll take, fear or pleasure. So, I kiss her. Staying connected with her body, I monitor it to check her comfort. The instant she’s uncomfortable, I’m backing off, no matter how close we are, I warn my beast. It sends a sting up my spine, making me aware of its disagreement.
“You’ll open up for me? Mind, body . . . soul?”
She nods and relaxation sends every ounce of her flooding into me. I inhale again, unnoticeably, preparing to let the beast take possession for this feeding. “You’re okay?” I check.
