[08]
❝ you guys are either really brave or fucking crazy.but i'm going to stick around to find out ❞
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For a moment or two, everyone is quiet, unmoving in the still darkness of the yellow house we have taken refuge in.It's like someone has cut one of our limbs, an important one like a hand or a leg because we stare into space, confused with what our next step should be now that Ben has been taken.
"Where did they take him?" Nash snaps out of the daze first, triggering me and Ringer to do the same and pay full attention to the scene playing out in front of us.
"I think I saw them head a few doors down," Ringer contributes as she peeks carefully out the living room window.I half expect bullets to come flying in but it remains as silent as a graveyard.
"There's a couple of houses further down with army vehicles parked in the driveway.Looks like the ones back in base," Ringer comments, her eyes darkening at the mention of the base.She sits back down and hugs her rifle to her chest, like the Others were going to come and take her away.Even the strongest of people are frail sometimes.Ringer always seemed so tough, but even her mask fails her at times.
"So they're here then? The Others.." I trail off.Everyone has been contributing useful information to help our cause in rescuing Ben and there's me, stating the obvious because there's nothing much I can do.I haven't been trained in combat, the only thing I know how to do is to pull the trigger of a gun and hope for a half decent shot.
"And they have Ben.I know what they're trying to do.The aliens are gathering every single kid they can find to be their test subjects.That's why they didn't kill any of us on the spot.They need us alive," Nash states, his hands propped up by his knees as he sits across from me, thinking deeply.I hope he and Ringer take charge in our mission to rescue Ben because I'm a hopeless mess.It's silent for a while as I look up to observe Ringer's face.She's thinking deeply, the frowns on her forehead deepening and the gears inside her head spinning.
"Okay.We're going to get him out of there, and flee our asses away from this town as fast as we can," Ringer finally speaks, leaning forward to gain our attention.The three of us are hunched on the floor of the living room which has a blue sofa and a dead television set.The coffee table is shattered, pieces of glass littering the floor.I imagined how it happened to be.Occupants fleeing the house, knocking over the table or was it because of the break ins by people who no longer cared what punishment they would receive for the crimes committed because surely, there was no worse punishment than an alien invasion and a broken planet we called home.
"How?" Nash asks, his blue eyes glinting off the evening sunlight that seeps through the curtains.
"They haven't made a move to ambush us.That's good.It means they knew we were here from a lucky guess.They probably spotted Ben's ugly head since he was in full view.Look around for any weapons.Guns, knives, anything that might help form a plan to get him out," Ringer stands up and positions her gun as she observes the house, walking into the direction of the kitchen.Nash follows, heading for the wooden stairs by the door that reaches the second level of the house.I stick to the living room, scavenging drawers and looking under furnitures.Where would I hide a gun in a house? I imagined it would be under wooden floorboards.The floor beneath us was made out of wood.Nothing else seemed worth a shot so I took hold of the corner of a white woolen carpet which lay thickly in the middle of the living room.
I was about to yank on it when I spotted a bright red stain on the left side of the carpet,staining the purity of the white.Fully blooming and screaming out a message with it's fresh red colour.I quickly crouched beside it and stretched out my fingers to touch it.It was still wet and the blood stuck to my fingers when I brought them closer for inspection.Someone has been here recently.I open my mouth to warn my allies but as if on a silent cue, gunfire opens upstairs and leaves a ringing in my ears.
"Nash!" I yell as I pound towards the steps, the same time Ringer comes plowing full speed from the kitchen, her eyes wild.
"Stay here in case anyone tries to make a run for it!" She barks a sinple order as she pushes past me and runs up the stairs.I take up post by the corner of the stairs and aim my gun at the narrow space in which anyone could appear at any time.I tell myself that I would pull the trigger when it came down to it but as every second ticks by, my resolve cracks like an eggshell.Was I ready to kill again?
More gunshots are heard followed by groans and then its silent.What if Ringer and Nash are dead? I could escape now, a clean and fast one out the door.But I know I couldn't leave them behind.My sweaty palms threatened to drop my M16 from my hands as I slowly let my boots climb the first stair.
"Sullivan!" Ringer's sharp voice rings out and startles me.Never have I ever thought that hearing her voice would conjure a wave of relief to rush through me.I pound up the steps onto the second floor of the house.It's dark as I turn into the room on my left where I see Ringer standing in the doorway, gun trained on something inside.I don't see Nash anywhere and my stomach drops.He couldn't be dead.Not when the guilt of murdering his brother is eating me up alive.
I approach her and peer into the dark room, dreading what I might see.I see a bald man lying motionless on the cream carpeted floor beside another younger man with a mass of blonde hair on his head.Both are motionless but I can just make out the rise and fall of Blondie's chest.Standing hunched over them is Nash, looking a bit frozen, the features on his face indecipherable.
We stand quietly, not uttering a single word so when Nash speaks, it's like a clap of thunder through the silence.
"I've got a plan," he utters, stepping over the bald man's body and towards a white closet in the far end of the room. He throws the doors open and rummages through the many fabrics and clothes inside as me and Ringer glance at each other.The clothes belonged to a male, judging from the ties and shirts he owned.
Nash picks out a plain grey t- shirt with short sleeves and a pair of jeans.He tosses his gun aside and his fingers tug at the button of the army uniform he was wearing.
"Ladies, avert your eyes or take it all in," Nash smirks as he pulls of the army jacket and starts to strip the shirt he was wearing inside.Any sign of his previous look of remorse disappears from sight.
Ringer doesn't seem too happy about it and shifts her gaze to the men on the floor but doesn't turn around.I on the other hand, turn my body away from the scene.This may be the end of the world but I guess bits of the old Cassie is till stuck to what is left of me now.
Nash has changed into regular clothes and explains his plan to us.Judging from the gunshots that were fired and the approximaty of our enemy's location, they were bound to hear our ruckus.The advantage would be that they didn't know who was alive or dead.Nash suggests we use Blondie and make him up as a soldier that went through the experiment Ben told us about.The 'experiments' were failed ones, the Others's slaves, left behind to kill the remaining of us.A poorer version of a Silencer but just as deadly.The boy who blew himself up with a hand grenade earlier today at the highway proved that.
"You're just going to send him strolling in there with two of us playing dead?" I ask.It's a big risk if you ask me.Blondie might not even want to cooperate.What if he really does approach them and blows our cover? What if they shoot him on sight? So many things could go wrong with his plan but seeing as how Ringer is silent, she's considering it as an option.
"Not dead, they need us alive remember? It'd be like bringing fresh new meat to them for their experiments," Nash retorts.
Half an hour later with Blondie still knocked out cold on the floor, we perfect our plan to get Ben back.With the utensils we have in the house, Nash tinkers with a digital alarm clock so it displays a countdown before strapping it onto Blondie's chest with duct tape.If I didn't know better, I would think it was a bomb.I manage to contribute and find a small remote device which would be used to trigger the 'bomb'.It was a hopeless shot,strung together by a couple of teenagers but it was a shot none the less.
Nash strips Blondie and changes him into his army uniform and he's carried down into the living room.
Ringer brings us canned food from the kitchen cabinets and we eat as we wait for Blondie to rouse from his sleep.It's decided that Nash and I will play dead, and Ringer would supposedly be the lone survivor of our group since she's the most likely to survive anyway.The lamb stew I'm eating doesn't ease my nerves as the plan runs over and over again in my head.
A groan sounds from Blondie and we immediately train our weapons on him.Blondie is about 30 years old judging from the wrinkles and stubble on his chin.He opens his eyes and recoils in shock as he eyes the guns pointed at him.
"Our friend has been captured and we need you to help us got him back," Nash begins, talking in a low voice.He sure doesn't beat around the bush at all.
Blondie doesn't talk but a smile stretches across his face.
"And why would I want to help you do anything?" His voice is rough, like he's spent the night screaming.He observes the clothes he's wearing and a cloud of confusion passes his face.
"Because it's the only thing keeping you alive right now," Ringer says.
"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" Blondie ignores Ringer's threat as he leans forward towards Ringer with a sick smile on his face.Something tells me he won't enjoy what's coming next.Ringer slams the butt of her gun into the man's face so hard that he's thrown back wards into the chair he's strapped into and he falls to the floor.Blondie struggles with his restraints, spewing profanities at Ringer as his spit flies everywhere.Blood is gushing down his nose.Time is running out and with every minute that passes Ben is slipping further away from us.Up until now, no one has voiced out the possibility that he might be dead.
This thought ignites something in me.All the moments I've had with Ben the past few days comes whirling into my mind and feeds itself into the growing fire.
I stand up from my seat and point the end of my gun directly between his eyes, as he grows silent.
"He's not going to help us," I say, my eyes trained on his and my voice hard and cold.Blondie doesn't know that compassion keeps me from killing, he doesn't know that I would never kill someone and I have to use that to my advantage. "He's better off dead.We can carry out my plan," I nudge the gun harder into the man's forehead.
I can feel Nash and Ringer's questioning glare on my back at my behaviour but I ignore them.Blondie lets out a small whimper. If he doesn't compromise soon, we won't have another plan.
Maybe its the glint of fury in my eyes or the threat of the gun to his head but Blondie finally caves into my request. "Okay! Okay! I'll help!" He says, urgency in his voice as he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away from me and the gun.I nod satisfyingly and set his chair straight before going back to my seat.Nash eyes me and I look away.
"Perfect."
Nash explains our plan to him, going through each step with Blondie nodding solemnly once in a while.
"If you're planning to hand us in to them I suggest you take the idea out of your head," Nash finishes, tapping his head lightly.He gestures to me and my eyebrows shoot up in confusion.Blondie doesn't notice our exchange.Nash wants me to elaborate on the part where if Blondie steps out of line, he's going to blow into a million pieces.Probably because I scared the crap out of him the first time with my acting skills.
"Ringer, get the timer running," I order in my best commander voice.Ringer shoots me a glare, knowing I would never order her around if it weren't for Blondie in front of us.She grunts in disapproval but leans forward and yanks Blondie's military jacket aside to reveal the hastily strapped alarm clock to his chest.Ringer presses a few buttons, satisfyingly making them beep loudly as she sets the timer feature to countdown.
"Ready to blow on signal,Sarge." Ringer leans back into her chair, not even the slightest smile tugging on her lips.Oh how I love the sarcasm in her voice.Everyone maintained a serious expression.That action alone hinted to Blondie that we meant business.
"You so much as breathe a word you're not supposed to and you'll be blasted into a million bits of flesh and blood," I say, my voice deep and serious.I feel like I'm in a play.
Blondie breaks out into a cold sweat for a moment.His eyes etlle uncomfortably at the device strapped to his chest.Then it morphs into something like shock, confusion.Finally, he breaks into a strained smile.Has he figured out that we fooled him? "Both of you will die with me," Blondie states plainly, like he couldn't believe that we would sacrifice ourselves for a friend.Did it touch him?
"That's part of the plan," Nash says, standing from his seat.No more discussions.We fly into action.
The sun is setting fast as we stand by the open door of the yellow house.Blondie is freed from his bonds with Ringer aiming her gun at him.Nash and I take our positions by the garden wheelbarrow, ready to play dead.The plan was for Blondie to drag our bodies across the gravel and it proved that although he would immensely enjoy dragging us on everything sharp, he would rather exert less force and use the wheelbarrow.
Blondie holds the wheelbarrow steady by the handles and motions for Nash to climb in first.Nash tucks the pistol he had between the waist band of his pants and lays himself into the red wheelbarrow, his limbs hanging loosely out the sides.His face is painted in 'blood' and his shirt is soaked with it.Hopefully they won't know it's tomato juice.I lie down flat on Nash, my back against his stomach and rest my head on his shoulder.I am equally soaked in fake blood. There was disgruntle over who would lie on who as Nash refused to let me be the human barrier in case they shot us.I would be protecting Nash's whole body.
"I'll try to tip you over painfully when I get the chance.Preferably on a thorn bush," Blondie says mockingly, a sneer twisting his lips.None of us say anything.I close my eyes and still my breathing, trying to think about dead things to help me play dead better.
We don't waste time with goodbyes with Ringer.Blondie struggles with our weight but pushes off, down the gravelly path and on the street.I'm expecting gunfire to hit me , bombs to fly into the air but it's silent.
I'm starting to devise plans in my head to kill every single alien in that house and reunite with Ben when Blondie opens his mouth. "So when does the alarm go off?"
I feel Nash's muscles tense beneath me as we both freeze in shock.He knows we've fooled him with the alarm clock.It really didn't stand a chance anyway.Any thoughts of reuniting with Ben fly out the window.My life and Nash's rests in the hands of this guy who has nothing left to lose.
"Ah ah, wouldn't want to blow your cover would you?" Blondie says, his voice surprisingly in high spirits.There's something he's trying to say.
"Did you really think I was that stupid?" Blondie slows his pace, walking slowly.
Nash doesn't make an attempt to move so I stay in my position.I hold my ground.
"That house was my house.Sure you invaded it and fooled me with an alarm clock that my daughter bought for me," he says, anger evident in his voice, Nash is growing tense again, ready to launch into a code red.
"But on the bright side, I've been held at gun point, molested and starved for the past 59 hours and you murdered that fucking cunt.It's a miracle I'm even alive," his voice turns softer, more resigned.
"And I think there's a reason why I woke up with my daughter's only gift strapped to my chest," he continues. I find it hard to comprehend but if Blondie's crazy theory is the only thing holding him back from killing the both of us I wasn't about to correct him.
"You guys are either really brave or fucking crazy.But I'm going to stick around to find out," Blondie says with determination in his voice as he pushes us faster, gaining momentum.
I risk a peek and see that we're approaching the house and two men stand guarded in the doorway.They would've shot us by now.They bought what we were offering them.
Blondie approaches them and my heart is beating wildly in my chest.It's whether we die or we survive, there's no in between.
With a war cry, something unplanned for, Blondie digs his hand into the wheel barrow with his one hand and yanks the M16 we've hidden beneath our limp bodies.He heaves the wheelbarrow with a grunt and we swerve off course to the side of the house our attackers are in.Everything happens so fast.Gunfire breaks out as Blondie returns it, gunning for the two guards out front.
Me and Nash collapse painfully to the ground, the wheelbarrow vomiting us out and we scramble over each other to get up.I grab the other M16 lying on the ground by the upturned wheelbarrow.Blondie has just turned Plan A into Plan B.Without a word, Nash yanks me to take cover by the side of the house as he slips the pistol from his waistband.
"I'll take the front door.You take the back.There can't be more than 3 of them inside," Nash orders and I nod.Without another word, he slips past me.Another unspoken goodbye if any one of us dies tonight.I regain my composure and hunch over to creep to the back.The backyard is clear, with a playhouse in the left corner of the depressing yard.The flowers have long shriveled up and died. The back door glows from the light inside the house and I approach it, perking my ears for sounds and aiming my M16, my finger poised over the trigger. Gunfire explodes from the front of the house and I take that as my cue.
I burst through the backdoor into the cluttered kitchen, sweeping my gun left and right.Nothing moves.I walk cautiously into the front part of the house where there is a dark figure standing in the doorway, returning fire with Nash.He doesn't notice me and it's a perfect opportunity.I aim at his head and pull the trigger without hesitation because I can't afford it to hinder me now.
The figure jerks from the impact of bullet hitting flesh and he slumps to the ground.I'm about to relish a sigh of relief and reunite with Nash when someone or something flies down from the top of the stairs and crashes into me full speed.
We're knocked down hard into a chest of drawers and the satisfying crack of wood splits the air.I groan loudly as I swing the butt of my M16 blindly around me.Stars explode behind my closed eyelids.The blow finds home in someone's head and he is momentarily thrown off his tracks to kill me.
I aim my gun at the figure and fire, with my body slumped to the ground, my aim is far from accurate.It was hard enough standing up.I hit him in the corner of his right shoulder as he curses, falling back.
I can see Nash entering in the dark living room.He immediately catches sight of us and brings up his pistol, firing the final shot at the man.It's dark and I don't even know how Nash could make out who was who.
I struggle to get on my knees and lean against the wall for balance.I think I busted a tailbone or two.I'm definitely going to have bruises tonight.
"You okay?" Nash closes in on me, his eyes observing the surroundings for more enemies.I'm about to wave him off when a crash of glass shattering accompanied with a thud from the front yard cuts me off.Nash bolts to the front door just in time to see one of the army vehicles pull out and drive down the street in plumes of smoke.It didn't get very far.Gunfire slices the air as the vehicle swerves dangerously to the left,knocking carelessly into someone's mailbox.Ringer must have opened fire.She doesn't plan for any of them to make it out alive tonight.
"We've got to get out of here soon or more of them will be coming back to finish us off," Nash says, turning back to me and geaturing up the staircase.I let my eyes search the downstairs of the house one more time.I'm not eager to explore the unknown on the second level.Much to my disappointment,Ben is clearly not downstairs so we resort to the only option left.
We climb the steps warily although we're convinced no one is left.I feel like an intruder as I pass the gallery of photo frames hanging on the wall leading upstairs.Eyes seem to stare back at me through the glossy photographs and the canvas paintings.My eyes linger long enough to catch sight of the framed photograph of a pretty girl, green eyes and red hair.I tear away with the mindset that she was long gone now.
The second floor is indefinitely much cleaner then the first, but is dark as night.The edge of the door to my right emenates bright white light and something tells me that Ben is in there.
Nash dashes in front of me and approaches it wearily before cocking his head slightly to catch my eye.
"As soon as I kick the door down, secure the room," he mutters lowly.
"What does that mean?" I ask almost sheepishly.You can't blame me for not attending psycho death camp now can you?
"You've seen the movies.It's exactly like that.I'll sweep left.You sweep right."
I've got a very blurry idea of what Nash is implying but I'll just have to go with my gut.
Nash rears back before kicking out with his leg, tearing the door down effortlessly.I rush in and sweep my M16 to the right, training my eyes on anything that moves.
Nothing does.
Nothing makes a move or even a sound.
Nothing except the beeping of the bulky heart monitor that is strung up to the sickly figure of Ben.
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