Repossession (The Keepers Trilogy) Page 7

  “It’ll be okay,” I whispered, cringing when one of the men delivered another kick to his gut. I shot forward. “Stop it! Fucking stop, or the deal’s off.”

  The men cuffed him, then backed off, letting their friend take the lead again. “So you’re in need of antibiotics?” he asked, his excited eyes snapping to my bare chest. I crossed my arms to cover my breasts, my skin crawling at the sight of his appraisal.

  “Yes.”

  “I think that can be arranged. Right this way, honey.” He bowed with a filthy grin, motioning me to follow him. I obeyed, stepping forward to follow his lead, my eyes squeezing shut with unshed tears as Jet’s voice roared behind us. The men picked him up and dragged him away while the ringleader led me into the next car. The metal door slammed shut, separating me from Jet’s pleas and shouts. In seconds, his cries were fully drowned out by the brutal pounding in my head, a deafening drum, coercing me to shut my brain down. To give in to the numbness. It’d be the only thing to get me through this alive. And I had to make it out of this alive. Jet needed those antibiotics.

  It was life for a life, and I’d been keeping score. It was my turn to pay up.

  FIVE

  A tired moan pushed through my lips when I felt something nudge my leg.

  “Get up,” a man’s voice said. It was rusty and unfamiliar, a hollow echo somewhere in the back of my brain. “Come on, move it.”

  My eyelids stirred and I shifted to sit up, the pounding in my head a ferocious tattoo. It thumped against my skull as I opened my mouth to speak. “What’s going on?” My voice was shaky.

  “You’re done here,” the man’s voice said, nudging me again with his boot. He dropped a plastic bag on my lap and disappeared. My eyes finally adjusted to the light, and I was surprised to find the train car so lit up. The lighting was low, but everything was visible. Single mattresses were lined up against the walls of the car, much like the ones Jet and I had shared in the Black Hole.

  My heart jumped against my ribcage when I spotted them.

  Women. Women, lying on the other mattresses, covered in blankets, just like me.

  The warm, already suffocating air reached in closer and began to claw at my throat. The rickety motion of the train wheels moving beneath me sent my blood pressure soaring. I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, could only stare at the scene around me. Some of the women were alone. Some were joined by men, who hovered over them. Others were paired with more than one man.

  My stomach rolled and I stumbled to my feet. I was going to be sick.

  Keeping the blanket wrapped tight around me, I spotted my jeans, shirt, and boots on the floor behind me and bent to scoop them up, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. A soft moan and muffled scream reverberated throughout the car. Quiet sounds, but they pierced my ears with a sharp slicing. My vision blurred with hot tears. I reached down to retrieve the plastic bag and clumsily rushed through the train car, toward the door.

  Sucking in frantic breaths, I pulled the latch and was greeted by three armed men. They eyed me up and down and nodded, letting me pass by when their gazes landed on the plastic bag in my hand. Voices were wafting toward me, but I couldn’t make them out. Scorching tears started to spill down my cheeks, and I gasped when Jet’s chest collided with mine. A man behind him released his cuffs, and his arms enfolded me and I sank to my knees, letting him catch the weight of my fall.

  “Are you happy?” he shouted at the men who’d been guarding the door. “It’s done, now fuck off! All of you!” My entire body quaked against his, but I could feel the tremor in his own movements. He was rocking back and forth as he held me, his fingers clenched tight in my hair as his hands cupped the back of my head.

  “Skylla, look at me,” he pulled back to stare at my face, his hands still cradling my head and neck, “did they hit you? Did they fucking hit you? Tell me now!”

  “I don’t know,” I stuttered, saliva sputtering from my lips through my sobs. “I don’t remember.… I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean you don’t remember?”

  “They gave me something. I … took something. I wanted to. Wanted to … to be out for it.”

  He winced and his jaw worked, his eyes blazing and burning into mine. “Fucking hell.” He pulled me back against his chest, tucking my head in the crook of his neck, then resumed his rocking. We sat on the dusty floor like that for what felt like hours, our legs intertwined in the kneeling position. Like the demon and the angel reaching for one another on Jet’s arm, I felt half of everything. Half pure, half used. Locked in a dark, beautiful embrace. One I wouldn’t wish on anyone yet one I wouldn’t ever reverse if given the chance.

  Not when it had the power to save a life.

  I pulled back to peer down at the blanket encasing me, at the plastic bag smashed tight in my fist. I lifted it to Jet’s chest, and my gaze rose to meet his. “Take this,” I said, my voice fueled with fierce determination. “Take it now.”

  Jet grabbed the bottle from the bag to read the label, and I didn’t have a chance to say anything more. I pushed away from him and darted for the corner of the car, dropping back to my knees in a dry heave. My whole body convulsed as I vomited, the stench bringing on wave after wave of nausea.

  Jet gave me space, waiting until the sickness subsided to join me. He pulled my hair back to look at me, concern and anger etched on his face. Without a word, he hauled me up and into his arms and carried me to the other end of the compartment, setting me down against the wall before rummaging through the backpack and retrieving our guns, guns returned by the men who’d confiscated them while I paid for the medication.

  After handing me some water, he retrieved a towel and moistened it to wipe my face. He was pushing my bangs away from my forehead when a woman approached us, escorted by two tall, heavyset men with machine guns.

  “One of you needs stitches?” she asked, her voice soft and meek. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with long red hair tied back in a braid. “My name’s Julianne. I’m a nurse.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I breathed. “Yeah, thank you.”

  Jet tossed some of the pills I’d given him into his mouth with a swig of water, glancing at me as he swallowed. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “It was part of the deal,” I said. “A condition I added before I paid.”

  His blue eyes went stone cold and he looked away.

  “Just be glad they held up their part of the bargain. Julianne, this is Jet,” I said quietly, the groggy memories beginning to surface. One man crawling on top of me. Then two. Bile crept up my throat as more blurry faces sidelined me, causing my breath to accelerate. “He needs his hip stitched up, please.”

  “Sure, okay.” She turned to one of the armed men, and he handed her what looked like a first aid kit. She tightened a white apron around her torso and asked Jet to sit down next to me.

  The next few hours, I was in and out of consciousness. Every so often, Jet would whisper what time it was, and sometimes, between dozing off and waking up, I’d hear other things, too. Things like I’m so sorry, and I’ll kill the bastards. Once there was an It’s all my fault, and even in my half-conscious state, I couldn’t bear to hear that one. I’d groaned and brushed my fingers over his lips to silence him, mumbling for him to stop.

  When I finally began to come around again, I realized my awakening wasn’t due to Jet speaking to me, or my body’s natural desire to wake up. A heavy rattling shook from above, followed by piercing screams from one of the nearby compartments.

  “Skylla, get up.” Jet shook my shoulder. “Do you hear me? Come on, time to go.”

  “Hhhmmm? Why, what’s wrong?” My eyelids fluttered open and I straightened my back against the wall. Jet offered a hand to help me stand and I accepted, fighting dizziness when he brought me to my feet. He was holding a lantern of some sort; the light cast a strange glow over his cheekbones. I wondered what time it was, but stopped when I figured it must still be nighttime. I remembered hearing something about the trai
n only running at night.

  Another noisy rattle sounded above us. This time the entire car shook, the floor beneath us rumbling like tremors of an earthquake.

  “Damn it,” Jet huffed, adjusting his backpack, then cocking my gun and handing it to me. “For future reference, you’re not allowed to sleep anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Every time you doze off, something bad happens. You’re hereby banned from sleep. Indefinitely.”

  “Uh …” Another slam on the roof of the train. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  He opened his mouth to respond but his balance was thrown off as the train creaked with a loud groaning, and he let out a curse instead. He stumbled to the left and recovered quickly.

  Me, not so much.

  I stumbled toward him and he caught my arm, keeping me from falling flat on my face. More screams rang out, echoing throughout our car. A group of people burst into the compartment, their eyes just as frantic as their shouts, and it took only an instant for Jet and me to realize what they were yelling about.

  To the right and left of us, the car’s metal doors slid open, sending blasts of cool air inside. The gusts whipped around us in a dizzying spell, disorienting us both. We struggled to regain our balance as the floor beneath us rocked slightly side to side.

  Then the gunfire began.

  Three, then four Invaders began to creep inside, the first two slinking in from above, their graceful, pale-white skeletal frames slithering out from the train roof and into the car, gripping the sides of the entryways to pull themselves in. Two more ascended upon us, climbing upward from underneath, where they must’ve been lurking somewhere near the tracks. As the gunfire commenced from behind Jet and me, I launched into fire at my right, and Jet did the same to the left.

  Deafening pops sounded from every direction while he fired from both arms, and those high-pitched screeches I’d heard the Invaders make before multiplied all around us, their long jaws dropping open and dripping with that clear liquid that prompted my gag reflex. Looking into their eyes as I shot at them was a surreal experience. Not just because they were an alien species—but because they looked dead. Their empty, sunken-in sockets were terrifying, because you couldn’t tell what they were looking at, what they focused on. There was nothing but dark, oval voids that gave you a glimpse into their nothingness.

  But as more fire rang out throughout the car and Aqua Bombs spat toward us at rapid rates, I knew there was a lot more than emptiness lurking in their eyes. In those apparition-like skulls of theirs, there was definitely something. Something intelligent, something I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to figure out. For a split second, the thought was humorous to me. An alien species invades my planet, and I don’t want to study them. I don’t want to discover their kind or where they come from. There’s no intrigue or awestruck wonder compelling me to find out more.

  All I wanted to do was eliminate them and pretend they never even existed.

  Jet ducked when one of the metal containers zipped over his head, narrowly missing my side. After taking one Invader down, I swung around to cover Jet’s back, my gut clenching when Aqua Bombs smacked hard into two men’s chests right in front of me. They immediately dropped to the floor and began convulsing. I froze, suspended in horror at watching them drown from the inside out. Water began to drizzle from the corners of their mouths and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the image of my parents.

  “Skylla!” Jet’s voice exploded to my right, and I opened my eyes in time to dodge a sphere that had been flying straight for my neck. I raised my gun and began to fire again, counting three remaining Invaders. They were surrounding us, closing in, only Jet, me, and one other woman left standing. Jet took his aim at the two and I zoned in on the third, my heart plummeting into my gut when more Invaders began to pour in through the open doors.

  This was not happening.

  A chorus of shrieking, nails-on-a-chalkboard howls erupted around us, and the new pack of Invaders homed in on their targets, starting with the hysterical woman standing between me and Jet. A sphere spiraled past my head and clunked into her chest with a sickening smack. Her eyes glazed over for a second and then her whole body went limp; an Invader’s long, lanky hand curled outward to snatch her up before she hit the floor. The creature lassoed her toward its body, curling her beneath its arm, and then disappeared out the side door and up to the roof.

  “This is a sinking ship,” Jet shouted over his fire. “We have to jump!”

  I nodded but didn’t bother to wait for his lead. I fired a few more shots at the creatures in front of me, my eyes bulging at the sight of the round silver balls that whirled toward me with easy flicks of their wrists. I bobbed and weaved to avoid the weapons and made my move to the left door, shooting at two more Invaders as they pushed past the others to pile inside the car. I heard Jet shout to jump, and I made the leap, ducking my head to escape the grip of one Invader’s arm. It swiped out to catch me as its body dangled from the side of the door and I aimed to shoot, feeling a punch to my gut when I heard an empty click.

  “I’m out!” I yelled over my shoulder, shoving my gun into my holster. Jet fired for me and I leaped forward, out into the night, the wind hitting my cheeks and blowing my bangs clear from my face. My body slammed to the ground and I reflexively threw my arms around my head and torso, throwing myself into a high-speed roll. When I slowed enough to gain control of my body, I vaulted myself around onto my back and whipped the gun from my holster, aiming in front of me. I was out of ammo, but it was habit.

  Jet had taught me well.

  He’d leaped right after me, his body rolling now and heading straight for me, but that wasn’t what caused my eyes to widen as I leaned back to take in the horrific sight. The train continued to fly down the track, and each car was covered in them. Invaders were everywhere. Crawling up the sides, climbing across the top, and worse yet, hovering above in their submarine-like airships. The ships were keeping up speed with the train as the Invaders lowered themselves down metal ladders, jumping onto the train one by one, ants scurrying from an anthill.

  Jet’s thigh slammed into me as he came skidding to a halt, breathing heavily and immediately reaching for his weapon. He mimicked my position and rolled onto his back, pushing himself backward on his elbows to stare up at the alien ships with me. Our chests heaved and our guns were poised, gripped tight between our knuckles, while we worked to catch our breath.

  The blackness of the night distorted my vision, but I found myself mesmerized by the scene playing out before us. It was made visible by the incandescent quality of the Invaders’ lithe forms; their pliable skin gave off a faint glow, illuminating the area around us.

  Was this what our fate as a human race had come to? Running for our lives, nonstop, until one by one, we were eliminated? A small part of me wondered about everyone on board. The kind nurse, Julianne, who’d tended to Jet’s hip. The men who’d marked me in ways I’d never forget. Both good and evil were being eliminated on that train, right now, before my eyes. How could I both grieve the loss of the good and celebrate the loss of the evil? It was too heavy to carry all at once. It was all on board. Good, bad. Black, white.

  And so much gray.

  The soberness of it all slammed into my chest as I continued to watch, watch while these fascinating creatures tore it all to shreds. Everyone—and dare I say everything—on that train was out for survival of some kind. Trading was paramount, a way of life now. Morality was blurred. Lines were crossed. All because of a fight for existence. All because of fear.

  The train finally disappeared down the railway and chugged off into the distance. Jet and I looked away, only to have our gazes snapping back toward it seconds later. The Invaders’ airships sent strikes of rapid fire from above, firing down onto the cars, obliterating the train in one elegant, efficient swoop. Gone. Poof. Nothing.

  Warmth from the fire spread and heated our cheeks, the hazy orange radiance casting us in its sharp flash of light. It fizzled out
and Jet shifted next to me, flinching as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

  “They killed their own kind,” I whispered, still frozen from the spectacle.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “They’re not much different from us, after all.”

  “That’s still debatable. Come on.” He grunted to his feet, bent down and took my hand. “Let’s find out where we are and try and hunker down for a bit. We need to clean up those cuts.” He glanced at my jeans. They were shredded at the knees, and though I couldn’t make out the red color, I could feel warm blood pooling over the ripped skin there. “And you need to wash up.”

  I searched for his gaze under the moonlight, only able to make out the silhouette of his face. I could read the implication of his words in his soft tone.

  “Yeah, okay,” I said. Because he was right. I did need to wash up.

  * * *

  After a few hours of restless sleep, morning came. Jet and I had taken shifts, him sleeping while I kept watch and vice versa. We weren’t lucky enough to make it to another Black Hole after ditching the train. According to the map, we had at least another fifty miles before we were in range of one, and like many of the others listed, there was no guarantee it would be intact when we made it there. The train had carried us through Louisiana, and had we been able to stay on it, we’d be somewhere in West Texas by now. That’s where the red line for the railroad track ended on the map, and while it wouldn’t have taken us all the way to California, it was better than nothing.

  So, one little lift from the train and one ambush later, we were back to square one.

  I lazily paced back and forth in the small kitchen, studying the sunrise’s light out the grimy window as I moved. My finger rested near my gun’s trigger, and Jet was huddled in the corner on the floor against a refrigerator. His snoring was soft and even, one leg sprawled out on the ground, the other pulled up to his chest while one arm hung loosely over his knee. I was happy to see him fall asleep so soon after I’d awakened to keep watch.