22

The Thing About Hope

Brodie threw his skin on the ground beside him. His gooey, green body wobbled as he hovered in midair. He looked disgusting, and from his moldy appearance, Harper wondered if he might be a thousand years old.

“Y-you’ve been one of them all along?” Harper asked, her voice shaking, realizing that she had no one left to trust. She did everything she could to hold back tears.

“I was assigned to keep an eye on you to make sure you’d be ready,” Brodie communicated through his antennas.

“Ready for what?”

Brodie hovered toward her. “To be my snack.”

The hairs on Harper’s arm raised, and she took a step back.

“The truth was right in front of you the whole time. But you humans are far too trusting,” Brodie continued. “And you’re easy to control when you’re afraid.”

“So everything’s been an illusion? The entire camp was created just to capture human kids to eat on your intergalactic road trips?” she said.

“Yes. Human children are the most vulnerable of your species. But to be fair, we’ve become masterful actors. While on our way to your planet, Director McGee sent a message to our ship, encouraging us to watch all your movies and TV shows to learn about your kind. Day after day, year after year, your satellites are sending your stories out into the cosmos, exposing yourselves to all intelligent civilizations. You might as well have a bright blinking neon sign posted on your world saying, ‘Free food!’ We aren’t the first to come here, and we certainly won’t be the last. But we haven’t been thinking big enough. . . . And once my mom takes over, we’ll franchise the ruse of Camp Moon Lake to a thousand other planets.”

“Your mom?” Harper asked.

“You know her as Counselor Fuller. She has big ideas. Director McGee has always thought too small. And once he’s gone, we’ll be able to harvest ten times as many humans as before.”

Harper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It felt like something out of The Twilight Zone.

No wonder Brodie kept making movie references! Harper thought. It’s all he knows about Earth.

Brodie hovered closer to her. “While studying your genetic order, we discovered that out of all the human emotions, fear is the most powerful. If you can make humans afraid, then you can control them. That’s why we made up the story about the ghost girl—to keep you away from the cove, away from the truth. As part of the experiment, I even gave you a hint early on when I made up the story about the camp murders and then revealed that it was a lie. You should have known then not to trust me, but your desire to believe in me was your weakness.”

Harper thought of the politicians, world leaders, and all the crazy images her dad watched on the evening news. She suspected Brodie might be right. But then she felt something deep inside her that contradicted what she was thinking.

“Y-you’re wrong about one thing,” she stuttered, trying to maintain her poise.

“And what’s that?” Brodie asked.

“There’s something stronger than fear,” she challenged, then took a step toward him, boldly. “Courage.”

In response, Brodie’s antennas began to make a laughing noise. He opened his mouth, revealing hundreds of sharklike teeth. To Harper’s surprise, out of his throat came a shrill noise that sounded like it was spilling out from the blackest void in the universe. It was the same sound she had heard coming from the cove.

The breath in Harper’s lungs extinguished like a candle flame turning to darkness.

In a panic, she again felt around on the wall behind her. She knew her chances of escape were slim at this point, but she had to keep trying.

Brodie floated around her, like a beast circling its prey.

But then Harper heard a voice. . . .

And it was coming from inside her own head.

“Harper, it’s me. Regina.”

Regina? Harper thought.

“Yeah, I’m using this weird telepathic audio device I found in their control room. It’s letting me talk inside your mind.”

What?

“Just trust me. In a few seconds, I’m going to open a secret passageway behind you. I can see it on the video feed right now. But you have to jump through it right away so I can close it before Brodie gets to you.”

Nuh-uh. No way. I saw what you did to Darla on the trust fall.

“This is different. I promise I’ll catch you.”

How do I know you’re not one of them and this isn’t just part of the trap?

“Because I was in a cocoon! Tabitha’s one of them, and she tricked me into sneaking out of the cabin one night and then put me in there.”

You could just be making that up. Your name wasn’t on the camper list!

“Probably because it was a list of the alien campers. I’m human—I promise.”

But how can I know for sure?

“You’ll just have to weigh your options. But hurry—you don’t have much time. Five, four, three, two, one . . .”

Right then, a door in the wall behind Harper opened, and she glanced down into the black void. It looked like a death sentence. But she didn’t have much choice. She could either stay and be Brodie’s snack or take her chances with Regina.

So she took her chances and stepped through the doorway.

Brodie rushed after her, but the door closed just in time to seal him off.

Harper tumbled down the chamber between the walls, and her body banged around like she was a rag doll. Finally, she landed in Regina’s arms.

“How did you escape?” Harper asked, standing to her feet.

“I crawled along the wall and fell into some kind of vacuum chute. I ended up here and saw you on the video feed,” Regina explained, pointing to the video monitors on the nearby wall. “I swear, my dad’s made me watch E.T. like twenty times, and I thought aliens were supposed to be nice!”

“Thanks for saving me,” Harper said, then glanced around at the dim chamber. It was round and had an arched ceiling. She figured the entire room was half the size of a basketball court.

“Hey, you saved me first,” Regina said. “As far as I can tell, this must be the mainframe of the Mother Ship. We better hurry. I’m sure they’ll find us soon.”

Harper suddenly felt a surge of hope.

“Brodie said something about an antenna that alerts alien ships that the earth food is ready,” she said. “If we can figure out a way to destroy it, maybe we can stop the operation once and for all.”

Regina pointed to one of a dozen video monitors. “Is that the antenna you’re talking about?”

Harper saw a live feed of the top of the zip-line platform. There was the cell tower, with its blinking light.

“That’s it!” Harper said. “I thought it was a cell tower, but it’s their antenna!”

Regina immediately went to the computer keyboard, which was made of strange holographic symbols that hovered midair. She examined it for a moment, then began typing away.

“How do you know what you’re doing?” Harper asked, starting to feel suspicious again.

“These computers run on a simpler code than you think,” Regina said.

Harper stared at her blankly.

“I’m three-time state champion at robotics and computer coding,” Regina said. “How do you think I have so many Instagram followers? I know all the algorithms. You probably thought I was a cheerleader or something.”

Regina’s a computer wiz? Harper thought in astonishment.

Regina’s hands moved across the keys like she was conducting a symphony, conjuring secret music beyond Harper’s comprehension.

Finally, the lighthouse antenna on the video screen went dark.

“There, I did it!” Regina said. “Now, if I can find an emergency exit so we can get out of here . . .”

Regina squinted, examining the buttons again. She looked up at the video feed of the cocoons, then back to the buttons. “I think I have an idea,” she said. Then she pressed the keys like a madwoman, as if she was typing a novel.

Suddenly, the light in the room turned bright red, and a sharp beeping sound began to shriek from the communication system overhead.

“What did you do?” Harper asked.

But Regina didn’t answer.

They waited.

And waited.

But nothing happened.

Slowly, Harper accepted the truth. . . .

They were trapped. With no way out.