Vanished (24 page)

It feels like hours getting down the stairs. Occasionally Trin moans but for the most part she seems to be out of it.

We get to the bottom and Collin already has the code entered and the door open to the stone decontamination room.  He’s entering the code on the other side when we step in behind him and I breath finally as I hear the security door seal us safely in the bunker.

__#__

Trin doesn’t speak even when her eyes shoot open wide and dart around the dimly lit medical room.  A tear runs down her cheeks but she doesn’t scream, moan or make any sound.  Instead she lays perfectly still, her forest green eyes fixated on mine. “It’s going to be oTrin,” I tell her.

“Here,” Zayn says carefully removing Trin’s gun and holster and handing them to Maddie. 

“She’s got to be in incredible pain, why isn’t she screaming?” Maddie, whispers, her voice teetering on the edge of panic. 

“No idea,” I turn on Jasmine and try to stifle the sob I feel traveling up my chest. “Can you hurry?”

Jasmine shoots a quick glance over her shoulder, “If I don’t get the dosage right it could kill her. Don’t rush me. Zayn?”

I feel Zayn’s hands on my shoulders and try to shrug them off but he clenches down and pulls me backwards, “I’m not leaving her,” I yell, wrenching forward out of his grip.

“Logan,” Maddie says, leaving Collin at Trin’s side and coming over to me, “You’re not helping. Now get out.” She turns me into Zayn’s arms and he grabs my leather jacket sleeves and pulls me toward the door.

She’s right.  If I don’t get it together I’m just making it worse for Trin. I take a deep breath, look pointedly down at Zayn’s hands on my jacket until he removes them, turn and side-step around Madison to where Jasmine is fumbling with the needle and the vial of morphine, her hands shaking. I put a hand on her shoulder and gently nudge her back, ignoring the tears pouring down her face because I can’t see them right now, I can’t think about what she’s crying for, not if I want to stay calm, not if I want to keep the insanity threatening to swallow me whole, at bay long enough to help ease her pain.

I sense them watching me as, with steady hands, I press the needle into the top of the vial and pull the plunger slowly out watching the clear liquid swirl up into the chamber.  Telling myself not to look at her eyes if I want to do this, I turn toward her tense body.  Her fists are squeezed tight, her feet twisting and pointing in and out and occasionally her body twitches involuntarily.  I try not to see the burns as I find the same vein in her hand that I used back in Clinton after the spider bite, and inject her with the morphine.

Only when the syringe is empty do I allow myself to raise my eyes to meet hers.

Her face is twisted in pain but her eyes lock on mine and she grows still, her writhing body relaxing as the morphine does its work.  I don’t look away when her eyes flutter shut. Instead I memorize the pattern of the burn on her face bubbled and blistering over the left side of her forehead, her left eye and down her cheek and neck. 

              “It worked,” Madison whispers, her voice thick with sadness. I feel her come up next to me and wrap her hands around my arm, “Come on, Logan. Let her sleep while she can. We have to talk. Now.”

              I let her pull me out of the room, all the fight gone out of me now that Trin isn’t suffering. 
It won’t last long.

              The medical room is encircled in glass so we can stand outside and watch as Jasmine tenderly takes Trin’s hand and sits on the stool beside her. 

              Zayn is standing like a statue at the end of her bed with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw flexing.

              “Those bombs were made of some kind of fire I’ve never seen before,” I tell Collin and Maddie, “those burns she has aren’t normal.  If it was second or even third degree burns we could try and do a skin-graft, and she’d need antibiotics and IV fluids. But even if we could do all that, I don’t think it would matter because we know nothing about the technology that caused the explosion. We need answers.”

              We glance over at Trin through the glass. The skin where the burns are is silver and glittering and the skin that isn’t badly burned is still lobster red.  Maddie looks at her too. “Why didn’t I see that before? Her skin…where the burns are…it looks like diamonds.” 

              “Uh-oh,” Collin says looking at me and ignoring Maddie, “I know that look. Logan has a plan.”

              Madison’s eyes dart toward me, “Logan?” She says, “What are you thinking?”

              “I’m thinking we have one chance to save Trin but we have to move fast.” I start to pace, working the details out in my mind.

              “Logan,” Maddie says, and I glance up remembering they are waiting to hear my plan.

              “I’m going to shoot down one of those saucers” I tell her and watch as Collin grins and shakes his head and Maddie’s eyes grow large with understanding.

__#__

              There are several golden disks in the sky when Collin and I step out of the broom-closet and into the ruins of our school. 

              “Look,” I point at the nearest saucer still hovering over the top floor.  The other two have moved on raining white fire down on an apartment building several blocks away. Pulling the gun sniper rifle off my back, I open the silver case and extract a bullet the size of my finger. 

              “Are you sure about this?” Collin tenses beside me, “What if shooting down that one draws the other ones over here?”

              I don’t have time to answer because we hear a roaring sound, reminiscent of the sound I heard before the attack on the library and we see the saucer above the school start to descend.  Wind drives us behind one of the only concrete walls left standing, “It’s landing,” Collin shrieks over the roar. He slips an arrow into his crossbow. 

              I get the sniper rifle loaded just about the time I realize I’m not going to need it.  The saucer is levitating in the air just above the ground. I’m not going to have to shoot it down.  My plan adjusts and I prop the rifle against the wall and draw my hand-gun out of the shoulder holster. 

“I think it saw us.” Collin murmurs and I peek around the wall where he’s looking.

A crack of light in the shape of a triangle enlarges into one solid bright triangle and a ramp folds out onto the ground ten feet away from us. A figure steps into the light; a big man, heavily muscled with a glossy bald head and dark skin.  He’s wearing some kind of a hooded cloak with the hood pushed back and his uniform underneath is coiled around him.  Over his right shoulder I see the top of some kind of rod-shaped weapon.

He strides forward confidently. 

This is my chance.  Stepping out from behind the wall I raise my gun at the creature.  “That’s far enough,” I yell.

He puts his hands on his waist, casually, and comes to a stop. He calls out in a deep, mildly amused voice over the roar of the engine, nodding at my gun. “You can lower the weapon, kid.” He swivels his head toward Collin who apparently summoned enough courage to join me, “you have my attention.” He turns toward the ship and waves his palm downward.  The ship thrusters shut down causing it to sink to rest on the rubble pile behind him and the roaring sound stops. 

              “Who are you?” I demand, walking forward, gripping the gun – aimed at his chest - with both hands.

              He ignores my question and takes another step to the end of the ramp.    “Humans,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you’re the one in charge.” He asks, stepping off the ramp into the pile of rocks and cocking his head at me.

              “No one’s in charge,” I assert, “we’re equals.” I pull back the hammer, “and I said
that’s far enough
.”

              Oddly, his face transforms into a large grin that stretches from ear and to ear and his head nods down toward the ground a little bit.  He chuckles then looks back up again, his eyes on Collin, “This one really hates us, doesn’t he?” he inclines his head toward me.

              I don’t give Collin the chance to answer, “You’re coming with us.” I tell it. 

              He nods at the gun, and it goes flying out of my hands.  Recovering from the shock, I grab the other one. He laughs, “How many of those you got?” 

              Collin shouts at him. “You and your buddies in the saucers over there hurt our friend.  You
have
to help her.” 

              The alien’s eyess narrow and I think he might be about to attack us when he holds his hands up in the air, “I’ll come.”

              Collin and I look at each other. Something about how easily he gives in doesn’t feel right but what choice do we have?  I wave the gun at the demolished school. “It’s this way,” I tell him.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Trin

              When I wake up the torture session has ended. My thoughts feel kind of fuzzy and it’s dark but I sense I’m not alone.

              I test my body, moving my hand a fraction of an inch, curling my toes, blinking my eyes. I keep expecting for the pain to return but instead my body feels good, it feels strong, and my skin is tingling with pleasure.  I decide I like the warmth and I let it lull me back down into sleep.

              When I wake up the second time my brain feels less fuzzy and I almost giggle with relief when I feel the tingling, almost sensual, sensation tantalizing my skin again. 
This is nice
, I think. It’s like someone is softly blowing on every inch of my skin all at once. 

              If I open my eyes will the pleasure stop? I don’t want the pain to come back so I decide not to risk it and allow myself to fall back into the blissful honeyed waters of my dreams.

              The next time I wake up I remember there is something I’m supposed to be doing. It’s that feeling that I left something undone.  I force myself to think past the bubble of bliss surrounding me.

             
I need to remember something.

              “She’s waking up,” a deep, calm unfamiliar voice says.  

              Tensing my muscles I prepare myself to spring away from the voice, then something warm touches my hand and at the same time something warm drops my other hand.  The pain comes back and I groan and roll on my side but this time it isn’t as bad. Still, I feel a sort of sadness that the please sensation is gone.  I
want
to feel it again. 

              The warm thing around my other hand tightens, “Trin?”

              I’ve heard that voice before. Faces burst through my mind’s eye. Places, events, colors, emotions, fear, loss, pain, love. “Logan,” I croak and force my eyes open, lifting a hand instinctually to block out the bright light.

              I hear someone not far away exhale a burst of air and, blinking, I make out Zayn standing at the foot of a bed, both hands clutching the plastic railing.

              I look to my right and see Logan.  His butterscotch hair is tucked behind his ears, his eyes are swollen and blood-shot. Why does he look so on edge? Like he’s going to go ballistic any minute? I may be loopy but I know that look and it’s reserved only for those Logan strongly dislikes.

              I turn to see who Logan is mugging so severely and the man standing there makes me want to jump off the bed next to Logan. I reach for my gun and cry out as my muscles scream, protesting. A wave of dizziness forces me to lie back again. “Whoa,” Logan says, “Not so fast. He is not a threat.”
Oh yeah
, I want to say,
then why are you looking at him like you want to strangle him?
 

              “He just saved your life.” I hear a female voice say and Madison steps up next to Zayn. He makes room for her, taking his hands of the end of the bed, and crossing them over his chest. His face is stone. What’s wrong with Zayn? Where’s Jaz?

              Timidly I look back up at the stranger. He’s taller than the rest of us, even Collin, and his shoulders are broad, his chest thick and muscular. He’s wearing some strange corded azure blue material that stretches from his neck down to his calves and strange mechanical looking boots. A long rod of metallic shimmering blue – the same color as the key I found - is strapped to his back. It’s his eyes that unsettle me. The closest I can compare them too is the eyes of a tiger. They’re animalistic and enchanting at the same time, gold swirling with black flecks.
Beautiful
, I think, and then he smiles and I’m not sure if I want to blush or run screaming.  The smile is carnal sexuality and danger. A wave of the tingling pleasure I felt while I was sleeping flushes over my entire body.  Now I do blush.  His liquid gold eyes glitter with amusement as he looks away, his lips curling upward.