H.A.L.F.: The Makers (15 page)

“You will.” Erika grabbed her again. “I have to help him, do you understand? I won’t sit here and watch him die. If I have to hurt you to help Ian, I will. Do you understand me?” Erika shook the Infractus hard enough to make her bulbous head wobble like a bobblehead on her neck.

“It’s no use harming her, Erika. She cannot think for herself. None of them can,” Dr. Randall said. “They know only the will of the collective and the orders they’re given by the Regina. And even if you manage to get the antiviral, we’ll perish here anyway. One way or another.”

“Maybe. But I’m not going down without a fight. And I’m not going to let either of you go down without a fight, either. Now get up. You’re going with us.”

Dr. Randall looked up at her but didn’t get up off the ground. “Going where?”

“Not sure exactly. But we’re going to walk the damned halls of this hell until we find us some pipes of water.”

“And what about the Conexus?”

Erika didn’t know how to combat the Conexus’ telepathic weapon. So far, they’d failed to protect themselves, armed with nothing but hope. But she wasn’t about to die a slow painful death in a dark room while watching Ian waste away to nothing beside her. And Dr. Randall needed encouragement, so she balled her hand into a fist and smacked it into her other hand. “We’re physically stronger than them. Ignore the pain and take them out before they take us out.”

Dr. Randall smiled and gave a nod.

Who knows, it might even work.

After twenty-four hours in the car, any hint of excitement Jack might have felt about his first road trip across country was gone. He made a game out of counting armadillo carcasses on the side of the road, their tiny feet sticking up in the air as if they’d been placed upside down. But after a couple hundred miles of flat Texas dust and roadkill, he was bored out of his skull.

Anna stopped for gas somewhere between Odessa and Lubbock. Jack offered to pump, as he had the prior times she’d stopped. She said she had it. Jack was a bit tired of Anna taking care of everything. She insisted on doing most of the driving, and she was paying for everything. The least she could do was let him be of some use and pump the damned gas.

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna grab some caffeine. Want anything?”

“Mm, what do I want?” Anna stared blankly at the digital numbers on the gas pump churning the bill higher and higher. “Oh, I know what sounds good. A big sour pickle. And a cherry coke. Not diet.”

“You’re really living on the edge today, Anna.”

He wandered the aisles more to stretch his legs than out of a need to peruse the merchandise. Every twenty-four-hour pit stop was pretty much the same as the last.

Jack found Anna’s fat dill pickle on the counter in the front. He dropped some sodas, a huge cup of coffee, various bags of chips and Anna’s pickle on the counter.

“On a road trip?” the guy said as he handed Jack the change.

“Yeah.” Jack stuffed the money into his pocket. “Hey, what day is it?”

“Um, Friday.”

“No, I mean the date. What’s today’s date?”

The man looked up at Jack like he’d grown two heads. “Man, you really are on a trip, huh?” He chuckled. “It’s the twenty-third, man. October 23.” He put emphasis on October like Jack might be so out of it, he didn’t know the month.

Jack thanked him and sauntered back to the car. His mood had been bordering on foul before. Now it had shoved over into cesspool nasty.

Anna was in the driver’s seat. That made Jack’s mood darker. He wanted to feel the steering wheel in his hands. At least then he’d feel like he had some semblance of control over his life. At least then he’d have something to do other than watch mile markers.

Jack sat down heavily in the passenger seat. “I thought it was my turn to drive?”

“I’m doing fine. You look tired. I thought you could rest more and take over when we stop for dinner in a few hours.”

Anna held the foul-smelling pickle in her left hand and started the car. “You’re in a mood.”

Jack didn’t answer and sank into the seat. He’d worked up a good stew of negativity and didn’t want anything to spoil it.

Jack had never known a girl to leave a guy alone and stew. Anna was no exception. “What’s going on, Jack? It’s not like you to be so sour.” She said this while she noisily crunched on a dill pickle.

“How do you know what I’m like? You’ve known me for what? Like a whole seventy-two hours now?”

Anna smacked her lips as she finished off the pickle then took a swig of her soda. “More like eighty.” She smiled at him.

He didn’t smile back. “Longest damned eighty hours of my life.” It wasn’t by far. He’d had far worse stretches, not the least of which was the two weeks in Commander Sturgis’ cave.

“Wow, you are foul. Go ahead and stay in a funk if you want. I just wondered what happened to get you in such a mood. We’ve hardly spoken all day.”

“It’s not you, okay. Not everything is about you.”

“I didn’t say it was. Look, we’re not even halfway there and it’s going to be a long drive, especially if you’re like this the whole way. So if there’s something that will make you feel better – if you want to talk about anything, then –”

Jack hit the dashboard. It sent a puff of dust in the air that made Anna cough. “It’s my birthday, okay? My goddamned eighteenth birthday and I’m in a smelly fucking car with a stranger instead of with my family and the people I love. So yeah, I’m in a bit of a mood, and no, there’s nothing you can do about it. Just drive the damned car and leave me alone.”

He turned his back to her and hoped she got the hint that he really, truly did not want to talk to her about it. He didn’t want to talk at all.

Thankfully Anna stayed quiet. She turned the radio on, and Tejano music blared. The music grated Jack’s nerves, but he’d give her the music if it meant he could be alone with his self-pity and loneliness.

The sun was warm coming in the window. Jack soaked up the heat and balled up a jacket and put it under his head to use as a pillow.

When he woke, the sun was just north of the horizon. The sky was deep coral and lavender with bursts of gold spinning away from a few low, wispy clouds.

He felt bad for snapping at Anna. It wasn’t her fault that his girlfriend had flown away from him in a spaceship or that he couldn’t go home if he wanted to stay out of jail and off Sewell’s shit list.

“Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m having a bad day, okay?”

Anna nodded and walked toward the restaurant. Her long hair bounced about her shoulders and her hips swayed gently as she walked. The setting sun shone on her hair and made it look like it was somehow lit from within. Jack wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it.

The parking lot was long and wide, and Anna had parked near the back. There was a huge neon cowboy hovering over the restaurant by a sign that said ‘The Big Texan.’ Another sign announced it was home to the ‘72-Ounce Steak’. Of all the unlikely things Jack had done with Anna Sturgis so far, this was by far the most surreal. It seemed like the last place Miss Spinach Salad would choose to eat. Jack looked toward the horizon in every direction as he walked and realized she likely didn’t have much choice. There was nothing but open range in every direction.

They checked in at the hostess stand set below walls filled from eye level to ceiling with stuffed heads of dead animals. Erika wouldn’t have set another foot further in the place no matter how hungry she was. The thought of her made Jack’s hurt redouble.

The huge menu nearly covered Anna completely as she read it. Jack thought for sure she’d order water with lemon and a salad. But she surprised him and ordered a Shock Top and beef filet.

“I’ll have the same,” Jack said.

The waiter carded him and grudgingly accepted the fact that Steve Harper was indeed twenty-two years old that day and of legal age to drink the beer he’d just ordered.

Anna maintained her aloof mask. Jack wished he could reel his angry outburst back in. He hated conflict.

When the beers came, Anna began to take a sip but stopped. She held her glass up. “A toast,” she said.

Jack halted himself from taking the sip he was ready to take. He raised his glass as well.

“To you, Jack Wilson. Happy birthday.”

They clinked their glasses and each took a long draw of the bubbly liquid. It went down smooth and warmed Jack’s insides.

After they sucked down half their beer and made the bread into a pile of crumbs, the mood had lightened considerably. They made small talk about inconsequential things and got into a raging debate about which franchise was better:
Star Trek
or
Star Wars
. Jack argued on behalf of
Star Wars
while Anna made a passionate argument for
Star Trek
. The truth was, Jack didn’t care. He was just happy to learn that his driving companion liked either. Most girls he’d met wouldn’t have known the difference between the two. Heck, even Erika rolled her eyes if he mentioned
Star Wars
.

They stuffed themselves with French fries and steak cooked rare. The waiter cleared the dishes, and Jack was getting ready to hit the head when a horde of servers came toward them, singing happy birthday and carrying a piece of chocolate cake with a lit sparkler coming out of the top. Jack had thus far lived his life without having to succumb to the embarrassment of a whole restaurant staring at him while having people sing happy birthday to him off key. The two beers he’d downed made him chill with it.

The sparkler reflected in Anna’s twinkling eyes as she sang along with them. She smiled, and the fire cast a soft glow on her pink skin. Maybe it was the beers talking, but Jack had the urge to kiss her. It was like for a brief moment, he was living someone else’s life. If someone was looking at them, they might think the two were boyfriend and girlfriend out for a special meal to celebrate his day. Kissing her would look natural. Be natural.

If she was his girlfriend. If his girlfriend wasn’t a billion miles away.

Jack forced the thoughts of Erika down and put a smile on. The sparkler died down and the magic of its fire was gone. Anna was a business companion forced on him by the situation, and he was no more than that to her. She was making the best of it. He should too.

He dug into the gooey cake and shoved the plate toward Anna so she could eat some as well. She ate a bite. A smile crept across her face as the sugar dissolved in her mouth.

“If we keep this up, I’m going to be as big as a house by the time this is over.” She took another huge bite.

Jack answered by digging his fork into the chocolate fluff icing. It wasn’t the eighteenth birthday he’d imagined or how he’d hoped to usher in adulthood. But he figured he’d always remember it, drinking beer and eating cake with one of the wealthiest and most beautiful women in the world.

They got into the car and Anna undid the top button on her jeans. Jack laughed and did the same.

They found a cash-only hotel. Jack was both relieved and disappointed when Anna requested a room with two beds. They wormed their way into sleeping bags so they didn’t have to take their chances with getting bedbugs. As Jack drifted off to sleep that night of his eighteenth birthday, he decided that life was better when he kept himself in the here and now without thoughts about his past or his future. Without thoughts about Erika and what might have been. Or about his mom and how sick with worry and grief she must be. It was too unbearable to consider the things he had no control over.

In the here and now, he had spent a very pleasant evening with a woman that, as it turned out, was an amiable companion. He was now Steve Harper. Jack Wilson’s past was full of might-have-beens. His future held the prospect of going up against Croft’s men to liberate Alecto, who was just as likely to kill him as help him. With his belly full of good food and drink, and Anna lightly snoring next to him, Steve Harper contentedly slept away the last few hours of Jack Wilson’s eighteenth birthday.

Erika felt Ian’s forehead with the back of her hand as her mom had done to her when she was a child. He was still burning with fever. She smoothed his hair. It was wet and matted against his head. His face and his lips were cracked and dry. His whole body trembled as he shook with the fever. “I’m going to find medicine for you. Hang in there, Ian. I will be back. I won’t leave you.” She bent and kissed his forehead and hoped that he could, on some level, hear her.

Erika once again pressed her hand firmly to Xenos’ shoulder. She wanted to remind her that she’d make good on her threat if she didn’t cooperate. Xenos trembled slightly beneath Erika’s fingers. Erika was sorry to have to scare Xenos that way, but she didn’t see an alternative.

Xenos led them in the opposite direction she’d walked when she had tried to help Erika and Ian escape. Erika didn’t know if that was a good sign or bad one.

They twisted down dark, narrow hallways. Each looked exactly like the last except that the further they walked, the more crumbly the floor became. It was as though there was little to no upkeep in the furthest reaches of the place.

Dr. Randall walked silently behind them. They didn’t see a single Conexus.

“Doesn’t it seem strange that we haven’t seen any Conexus?” Erika asked.

“A bit,” Dr. Randall said. “But every day they drag me through the halls to the place where they interrogate me and I don’t see any others in the halls. It’s almost like – well, it’s like they deal with us here but live somewhere else.”

“Yes,” Xenos said. “The Conexus do not live here. They live in Upper Tro. All live there.”

“Well, that explains it, I guess. Still, since we’re like prisoners, you’d think they’d guard us more heavily.”

“Why? We can’t get out of the room without one of them, and even if we did – like now – where are we going to go?” Dr. Randall said.

He had a good point. She had no way of knowing if the surface of the planet was habitable. If Tro and the greys were all there was on the planet, then their only hope for escape was to find a way to use the same technology that had brought them there to chart a course for home.