Halifax (11 page)

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Authors: Leigh Dunlap

BOOK: Halifax
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The Tall Girl suddenly lashed out at Izzy, grabbing for her, forcing Izzy to smash her in the side of the head with the hair dryer. The girl backed away, but Izzy’s actions only agitated them all. They began to whip their heads back and forth, looking at one another, communicating without words, and one by one began to make a nasty moaning sound, almost a growling sound.

“Rom!” Izzy exclaimed. She was now really getting freaked out.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got it,” Rom said as he pulled a small toy robot out of his backpack. It looked like it was from an old sci-fi movie and had a square head and accordion arms and a chest full of blinking lights. There was also a wind-up key on its back, which Rom proceeded to turn, causing the robot’s arms to start swinging back and forth and its legs to start moving.

Rom set the robot down on the ground in front of him and it began to walk towards the cheerleaders. Walk very slowly towards the cheerleaders. They all turned and looked down at the tiny invader as it teetered towards them, beeping and blinking and looking anything other than threatening.

“Any time, Rom,” Izzy said, the cheerleaders momentarily distracted but still surrounding her.

“I need to work on its speed,” Rom remarked as he watched his robot continue on its long journey. “Remind me about that later.”

Jon Roberts grew tired of the robot and suddenly turned his attention back to Izzy.

“Come on!” Izzy yelled, pleading with Rom.

Rom calmly looked at her. “I would duck if I were you,” he said as he hit the floor. Izzy quickly did the same and dove to the floor right before rays of light began to shoot out of the head of the little robot, spraying the room with a barrage of electric pulses. One by one the cheerleaders were hit by the beams of light. Each convulsed for a moment, something short circuiting in their brains, and collapsed to the floor. Their eyes returned to normal, then closed, as they fell unconscious. The robot came to a stop, mid-step.

“You can thank me now,” Rom said as he stood up.

Izzy got up and stepped across the bodies and walked towards the little robot. She then pulled her foot back and kicked the robot across the room where it smashed against a wall and broke into too many pieces to count. “Thank you,” she said.

* * *

A body was lying in the school parking lot. The body of a cheerleader. It was Shana Rowen. Farrell ran across the empty lot and knelt down, feeling her pulse, as Bobby joined him, staying back at a safe distance.

“It’s okay,” Farrell said. “She’s alive.”


Is
that okay?” Bobby asked as he slowly moved closer.

“She was infected by an alien virus,” Farrell explained to Bobby as he checked Shana’s eyes. They were no longer black. “But it seems to have moved on to another host.” He turned to look at Bobby. “What made you think she was an alien?”

“I’m kind of an amateur UFO investigator,” Bobby said. “And I know a so called ‘meteor’ crashed around here the other night and I thought it might have been a space ship. I was sure you and your sister and brother were aliens until I saw your car. No self-respecting alien invader would ever drive a French car.”

Farrell took offense. “I like that car.” He slid his arm under Shana Rowen’s back and began to lift her up off the ground. Bobby quickly stepped in to help and the two of them hoisted the girl up.

“But then the cheerleaders were being nice to me,” Bobby said. “So I knew they had to be aliens. That and the fact that they were replicating.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. And how did you know about the Committee?”

“I didn’t really,” Bobby said as he and Farrell began to drag Shana along, each holding on to one of her arms. “It’s just a rumor UFO aficionados talk about sometimes. I thought it sounded more official if I said I worked for the Committee.”

“Maybe you should,” Farrell told him. Bobby smiled and looked like it was the first time someone had ever even hinted that he might be worthy of something. And it probably was.

* * *

Farrell walked back into the girl’s locker room and found exactly what he had expected to find—a sea of unconscious cheerleaders littering the floor. He didn’t thank Izzy and Rom. Didn’t congratulate them or praise them. Only Rom expected such accolades and he rarely got them.

“Did you catch it?” Izzy asked Farrell.

“Not before it jumped to another host,” Farrell replied.

“Who did it infect?” Rom asked.

“I don’t know,” Farrell told them. “But it’s not going far. It wants something here. That’s its mission and you don’t mess with a Cambian on a mission.”

Izzy was shocked to see Bobby walk into the room behind Farrell. He was carrying the limp body of Shana Rowen. He set her down on the floor with the other cheerleaders. Izzy did nothing to hide her dismay that this boy who made a habit of staring creepily at her was now standing with Farrell and Farrell was acting like it was normal.

“What’s he doing here?” she demanded to know, her voice heavy with disgust.
He. Him. That guy I don’t like
.

“This is Bobby Ramirez,” Farrell told her, although Izzy already knew that. “He helped me with the Cambian and I thought we might give him a shot at working with us.”

Izzy’s eyes widened. Seriously? “That’s a stupid thought,” she said.

Bobby stepped forward towards Izzy. He was being way too familiar for her taste. He was way too comfortable. “Hey, I know everything,” he said. “You have to let me work with you.”

“He’s right,” Farrell said. “He knows all about us. Or he knows just enough about us to be a problem. We might be able to use him.” Bobby smiled at Izzy. “If not,” Farrell continued, “we can always kill him later.” Bobby’s smile faded. Izzy was the one smiling now.

One of the cheerleaders stirred and a moment later another one moaned faintly. The Tall Girl suddenly opened her eyes and looked up at Rom, startling him.

“What do we do about them?” Bobby asked. “Are they going to be okay? You know, not that I care.”

“The Cambian wouldn’t have had a chance to completely map human DNA yet,” Farrell said. “These cheerleaders aren’t carriers. They can’t pass on the virus. They don’t have the ability to make other people cheerleaders but they’ll always be like this. We can’t change that, but we can help them forget what’s happened here. Rom, do you have any meepers?”

Rom dug into his backpack and pulled out the plastic bear-shaped honey jar. “I always have meepers!” The jar looked like it was filled with small black and red flies. They buzzed frantically around the container knocking into the sides and knocking into one another.

“Good, so you’re all set,” Farrell said. “You guys take care of this. I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” Izzy asked, annoyed that Farrell was leaving them to clean up the mess.

“I have a date with a hot cheerleader,” Farrell replied and he hurried out the door.

Izzy grabbed the honey jar out of Rom’s hands. “What are these meepers set for?” she asked.

“Those are a five day dose,” Rom replied.

Izzy opened the jar and with two fingers pulled one of the small flies out, pinching it by its wings. She knelt down to the cheerleader at her feet and placed the little creature on the girl’s ear. It crawled around her earlobe as Bobby leaned in to get a closer look. The creature looked like a fly at first but on closer inspection it wasn’t a bug at all. It was mechanical. It was a tiny little cyborg with a fly’s head and four titanium legs. It turned and looked up at Bobby and Bobby could now see the LED lights in had in place of eyes. The meeper then turned away and burrowed into the cheerleader’s ear canal, disappearing into the girl’s head.

“What the hell are those?” Bobby said with a shudder.

“Meepers,” Rom told him. “Mind sweepers. They’re cyborgs that burrow into the brain and delete memories. In this case, everything for the last five days. One of my favorite inventions.”

Izzy pulled another meeper from the jar and took it over to where her former friend Carolyn Holcomb was lying. She was reluctant to perform the sweep of Carolyn’s memory. Her friend would forget the past five days and be taken back to a time before she had ever even met Izzy. “You’ll forget me,” Izzy told the unconscious girl as she placed the meeper into her ear. “But I won’t forget you. You were the best friend I ever had…for third period and lunch.”

The meeper climbed into Carolyn’s ear canal and a moment later the look on Carolyn’s face turned from one of frozen shock to frozen peace.

“How did you know about us?” Izzy asked as she turned to Bobby. He was still a bit stunned by what he had suddenly gotten himself into.

“Me and some guys I met on the Internet have what I guess you’d call an alien hunting club,” Bobby told her as Rom went about sweeping the minds of the other cheerleaders. “We call ourselves the Space Invaders. We monitor radio frequencies and hack into government files and…”

“You’re a sci-fi geek!” Izzy exclaimed with a laugh.

“No I’m not.”

“You are!” she said, taunting him. “I bet your favorite show is ‘Battlestar Galactica’, isn’t it? And you probably think there really are aliens at Area 51. And I bet you go to Comic Con every year, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering that,” Bobby said, embarrassed.

“I really could kill you, you know,” Izzy told him. She was suddenly feeling very superior. Bobby Ramirez was nothing more than a two-bit teenage alien hunter and she was one alien he would never be able to handle.

* * *

Nora fumbled with the keys to her house. Her hands were shaking. She was shaking. She pulled open the screen door then somehow managed to get the key in the lock and open the main door. She entered what should have been a large foyer leading to a massive living room filled with over stuffed sofas and the expensive fake ‘old world’ antiques popular with the inhabitants of expensive houses all across the Valley. She should have been entering the typical home of a popular cheerleader. Instead she walked into the living room of a singlewide trailer.

It was dark inside. A fluorescent bulb cast a blue glow above the burners in the kitchenette. It illuminated dishes piled up in the sink and plates full of bits and pieces of food strewn across the linoleum countertop that separated the kitchenette from the even smaller dining area. There was an oval table there and it was surrounded by mismatched chairs and stacked with unpaid bills.

Slumped on the sofa was Nora’s mother, Holly. She could have been sleeping peacefully but in reality she was passed out drunk. This is how Nora usually found her mother at night and often in the afternoon, too. A bottle of vodka on the table next to her. An empty glass on the floor. An unconscious Holly on the sofa. She looked older than her years but still looked young enough that most people didn’t believe she was Nora’s mother. Sometimes people asked if they were sisters, which pleased Holly to no end, but always bothered Nora. It was bad enough that she was her mother. Don’t give her the satisfaction of saying
we look like sisters
, Nora would say to herself.

Nora tried to sneak past her mother but the floor of the trailer creaked with her every step. It didn’t help that her hands were still shaking and the keys in them were jingling. Just a little bit farther and she would be free, to the hallway, towards her bedroom, unnoticed until the morning when her mother would be sober and her mother’s mood would be brighter. Hopefully.

“How was the game?” Holly said. Nora stopped short of the hallway and her escape. Her mother opened one eye and tried to sit up but only made it half way. She rested on her elbow and looked at Nora.

“We won,” Nora said, trying to sound cheery, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

Holly reached for her glass but left it on the floor when she saw it was empty. “Of course you did,” she said. “Things are always so perfect in your pathetic little world, aren’t they?”

Nora had long given up talking back. “Good night, Mom,” she said, heading towards her room, acting like having a drunk for a mother was normal and that seeing black-eyed cheerleaders on the attack happened every day.

“Don’t spend all night talking on the phone,” Holly called after her, her voice dripping with contempt for her pretty, popular daughter and stained with the residue of alcohol. “I’m trying to sleep!”

Nora stepped into her room and closed the door behind her, as if the flimsy balsawood would keep either her mother or other monsters from getting in. She immediately fell forward, her hands on her knees and her head between her legs. She tried to catch her breath and keep from melting down, tried not to cry out, to not scream in frustration and terror.

She calmed down and gathered herself together, slowly straightening up, breathing in, decompressing. Before she could even take another breath, though, she swung around in a flash and grabbed the person who was hiding in her room, almost before either of them even knew what was happening. She flipped the person over and onto his back and was on him in a second, straddling his chest, pinning his arms down with her knees.

It was Farrell, of course.

“Nice move,” he told her. “Very impressive.”

“Five years of judo,” Nora said, her adrenalin flowing. “When you live in a trailer you learn to deal with weirdos. How did you find me?”

“I followed you.”

“I’m not one of them!” Nora said, almost trying to convince herself as much as Farrell.

“I know,” Farrell replied calmly.

“Why am I not one of them?” Nora said, her eyes searching his. She was searching for answers and reassurance.

Farrell struggled under her weight, his arms aching from the force of her knees digging into them. “Maybe they were afraid you’d crush them with your incredibly powerful thighs.”

Nora’s long hair fell down around her head and hung inches from Farrell’s face. She stared into his eyes trying to look tough. It seemed obvious, though, that had he meant her any harm he could have killed her already. If she wanted answers she was going to have to trust him. She slowly got up, releasing Farrell, and stepped back as he stood up and stretched out his sore arms. She crossed her own arms, putting up both a physical and emotional barrier, and waited for Farrell to explain himself.

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