When we stepped through the frame the first thing that hit me was the smell. It was a nasty, chemical odor that burned my nose and made my eyes water.
The second thing that hit me was another Retro drone.
Actually, I did the hitting because it was floating directly in front of us when we jumped through the frame and I ran into its nose, stomach first. The impact knocked the wind out of me and forced me to let go of Tori’s hand. I hit the ground, gasping for breath while looking around to try to understand what had just happened.
The Retro fighter drifted forward, the underside of its fuselage not two feet over my head. If the drone knew that it had been hit by someone coming through the portal, it didn’t show it. The craft continued moving ahead and into the large frame, disappearing into the white light that now shone from the backside. Behind us.
I was left on my stomach, my heart racing and my lungs desperate for air. I caught movement to my right and saw the Retro soldier kneeling over Kent. Kent was flat on his back and the soldier had his hands wrapped around his throat. These were the last moments of a battle that Kent had lost. I rolled over and struggled to get to my feet, fighting for breath, to try and help my friend.
I made it as far as getting to my hands and knees when the soldier suddenly went stiff. His back arched and he fell away from Kent.
Turned out I had made the right choice by giving the baton weapon to Tori. She was only a few feet from me on one knee with the black weapon balanced against her forearm for stability. One shot and the Retro was done.
I managed to crawl to Kent, fearing it was too late. When I saw that his eyes were open but staring at nothing, my heart sank.
“Kent?” I said, still gasping for breath. “Talk to me.”
I leaned into him, desperately searching for a sign that he was still alive. When I got right over his face and looked into his eyes, he blinked.
He was breathing and suddenly I could too.
His eyes darted around, confused, searching for something to focus on. He finally looked right into my eyes, recognized me, and relaxed.
“You still with us?” I asked.
“Barely,” he said with a raspy voice. “Did you have to cut it that close?”
Tori ran over and knelt down next to us.
“We gotta move,” she announced with urgency. “Now.”
We helped Kent sit up.
“Are we in hell?” he asked.
Tori gestured to the fallen soldier and said, “Get him. Bring him over there.”
While she helped Kent to his feet, I went to the soldier, who was either out cold or dead. Either way he wasn’t going to be a problem . . . until somebody spotted him. Or us. I grabbed his legs and dragged him to one side of the frame where a bunch of crates were stacked up. I pulled him between the pile of boxes and the wall, hoping he would be hidden from curious eyes. Kent and Tori soon joined me.
“He’s alive,” I announced as I checked the Retro’s pulse. “How did you know the shot would only stun him?”
“I didn’t,” Tori said absently.
Her mind was already past the soldier. She was too busy taking in our new surroundings. Kent was too. I turned my attention from our enemy and got my first real look at where we had landed.
“Whoa wait, we’re still in the dome,” Kent said with amazement. “I think.”
It looked as though we had stepped through one side of the frame and out the other, with one major difference: The dome was no longer empty. The place had suddenly come alive, like a massive, busy beehive. A long line of hovering Retro drones started just inside the enormous open doorway and stretched outside to who knew where. The killing machines floated a few feet off the ground, one behind the other, patiently waiting their turn to move into the dome and drift through the portal. The music from their engines joined together to create a strangely hypnotic soundtrack, which only added to the surreal scene we were witnessing.
“No we’re not,” Tori said with confidence. “This isn’t the same dome.”
“It’s like a mirror image of what we left,” I added.
Stacked against the walls were thousands of containers of every shape and size. Some were about the size of a basketball, others looked big enough to hold a car. They were all made of a plastic-like light green material. Each had a unique raised black bar code on one side that must have been used to identify the contents. There were no recognizable words, English or otherwise. Just the bar codes.
“Look,” Kent said, pointing up.
Above us were several round platforms stacked with more crates. Nothing supported them or tethered them in place. They were floating freely. The platforms must have been using the same technology that allowed the Retro planes to fly. They hung at all levels, taking up much of the empty air above the screen like decorative lanterns at a tea party.
One loaded pallet floated up and over from the far side of the frame then dropped down slowly until it settled in ahead of the next Retro drone in line. It never stopped moving as it drifted forward and disappeared into the white screen.
“Jeez,” Kent said, stunned.
“Supplies,” Tori said. “This is where the Retro’s gear is coming from.”
“And weapons,” I added. “That frame is some kind of transporter.”
“Transporter?” Kent said, incredulous. “There’s no such thing.”
“There’s no such thing as a lot of things we’ve been seeing,” I said. “Add this to the list.”
“I’m telling you,” Kent said. “They’re aliens. Nothing like this exists on Earth.” His eyes got wide as he glanced around nervously. “We might not even be on Earth. What if that frame is like a ‘Beam me up, Scotty’ thing? We could be anywhere in the universe.”
“It’s an automated shipping depot,” Tori said thoughtfully. “Everything the Retros have been using in this war must have come through here. It’s why we never saw anything delivered to the prison camp. It all comes through here and gets spit out in that dome in the desert. It must be why they’re building more domes. They want other places around the world to receive their equipment from here.”
“But where is here?” I asked.
“Wherever we are,” Kent said, “it stinks. Literally.”
“It smells like some kind of factory,” I said. “There’s definitely chemicals in the air.”
Tori’s eyes went wide. “Maybe that’s why nobody is here. This place could be toxic.”
I glanced to the giant door that was the entrance for the Retro aircraft.
“Answers are out there,” I said. “We gotta go see.”
“Not dressed like this we don’t,” Kent said. “We’re bound to run into more soldiers.”
“As soon as we find other clothes we’ll change,” I said. “Until then we’ve gotta try to be invisible.”
“Yeah, like we’re going to blend in wearing orange clown suits with big numbers on the back,” Kent said with a scoff.
“The only other choice we have is to go back through to the camp,” Tori said. “And we’d be right where we started.”
Kent frowned. His mind was racing, desperately trying to come up with a third option. He eventually sighed and shrugged.
“Fine,” he said with resignation. “Just keep that shooter handy.”
I started walking around the perimeter of the dome, headed for the door. Unlike the nearly empty structure in the desert, this dome was so full of stacked crates, floating pallets, and fighter planes that we were able to creep along while taking cover. At least that’s what I told myself. With the kind of technology the Retros had, we could easily have been under electronic surveillance from the moment we stepped through the frame.
“They’re getting ready,” Tori said.
“For what?” Kent asked.
“The occupation. An army needs supplies.”
It made all sorts of sense. Feit had told us that the Retros were working to reset society and change the course of mankind. Killing off billions of people just for the sake of wiping out the population like Noah’s flood couldn’t have been their entire plan. At some point the Retros would have to take charge or the world would collapse. The barracks being built in the desert was the first evidence of what their plans were for the next phase of this war. This shipping depot was the second. Once organized society was reduced to rubble, they would step in and rebuild.
But who were they? Did they come from all over the world to gather here in preparation for the invasion? Did that mean the western United States would be the seat of a new civilization? And where was here, exactly? These guys had advanced technology that the world at large had no idea existed. How was it possible that they could have created advanced weapons and transportation devices without major governments knowing about it? Without anybody knowing about it?
As we approached the large doors that led outside I had to believe that some of those answers would be on the other side. I stopped a few feet from the door. It made my knees weak to be so close to one of the Retros’ killer planes. At any second it could sense us, turn, and fire.
“Is there a plan?” Kent whispered, as if the black plane might hear him.
“No,” I answered honestly.
“So then what are we doing?” he asked impatiently.
“We’re here to learn the truth,” Tori answered. “If we can find out what’s behind this whole thing, we’ll bring the information back to the camp. To the survivors. From there we might be able to spread the word. Like the Las Vegas survivors did on the radio.”
“And then what?” Kent said. “It’s not like it’ll change anything.”
“It might. The prisoners outnumber the guards at that camp. Maybe the truth will give them the will to fight back.”
“You mean commit suicide,” Kent said with disdain.
“Whatever,” Tori shot back. “But we deserve to know who’s doing this and why. We’re not primates. We aren’t inferior beings.”
Kent shook his head. “I hear you, but I’d rather be clueless and alive than smart and dead.”
“So go back,” I said coldly.
He glared at me, and for a second I saw the old, arrogant Kent who bristled when challenged.
“Keep moving,” he said.
I continued walking until I reached the edge of the colossal doorway. There was no doubt in my mind that we were on the verge of learning the secrets of the Retros. I glanced back to Tori and gave her a smile.
She nodded.
“Just go,” Kent commanded impatiently.
I rounded the corner . . .
. . . and stepped into a nightmare.
The dome was on the edge of a vast gray city full of cube-shaped buildings of all sizes that stretched out for as far as I could see. A single avenue led straight up to the dome and it was clogged with traffic. Not car traffic, black fighter-drone traffic. There had to be a hundred planes in line, waiting for their turn to glide through the portal and wreak havoc on the other side.
“We’re okay,” Tori announced.
“Okay?” Kent exclaimed. “How is this okay?”
She pointed to a group of orange-clad workers who were sweeping sidewalks and washing street-level windows.
“They brought prisoners through to work here too,” she added. “We won’t stick out.”
The prisoners were being watched over by a Retro soldier who leaned against a building, bored.
“Hide the weapon,” I commanded Tori.
She quickly slid the dark baton up her sleeve. It was only around eighteen inches long and fit easily, with one end resting in the palm of her hand.
I walked toward the group of workers. The others followed without question.
A platform stacked with tools hovered several yards away from the prisoners. Before the soldier could turn around, I grabbed a push broom and a shovel then hurried away and ducked down a side street. Once out of earshot I handed the broom to Kent.
“If we get stopped we’ll just say we were ordered to clean up,” I said.
We walked along the narrow street until we came to another wide avenue that didn’t look much different from the last. The buildings had no character. They ranged from three to ten stories high, all with identical rectangular windows. The streets and sidewalks were paved with a light sand-colored material, probably to hide the fact that actual sand collected in the gutters.
The streets were busy with people, all hurrying along as if they had somewhere important to be. There were Retro soldiers wearing the black-and-gray camouflage uniforms, which actually gave the illusion that they blended into the surroundings. There were also more groups of orange-clad prisoners who were constantly sweeping up the sand. It seemed like a never-ending task.
Most of the hurrying people were dressed in civilian clothes. Both men and women wore black pants but with different brightly colored shirts. There were no patches or markings of any kind, but the clothing definitely looked similar enough to seem like uniforms. It could be that the color you wore indicated a group you were in. Or a job you performed. Or a rank that you held. Or none of the above.
Though it wasn’t raining, many people held open silver umbrellas.
“These people sure are neat,” Kent said. “They’ve all got the same haircut.”
The men all had their hair cut short while the women all wore their hair the exact same length, which was barely over their ears. It was in marked contrast to all the prisoners, who looked shaggy and unkempt. Most of the prisoner men had beard stubble. Compared to the clean-cut locals, the prisoners really did look primitive.
“They must all go to the same barber,” Kent said.
“It’s military,” I said. “They may not all be in uniform, but they’re all part of the same operation.”
“Are those street signs?” Tori asked.
The corners of each building, just above eye-level, had a raised black symbol that looked like the bar codes we had seen on the crates in the dome.
“This isn’t a normal city,” Kent declared. “I swear we’re not on Earth.”
“The chemical smell is getting to me,” Tori said. “It’s worse than inside. Look at the sky.”
We all gazed upward to see a gray sky full of brightly colored clouds that moved across in rainbow-like waves. There were multiple layers of brilliant reds, greens, and yellows that lazily drifted by, blotting out a hazy-brown sun. It was almost pretty. Almost. This wasn’t some gorgeous, natural phenomenon. It was thick, chemical pollution.
“Ahh!” Kent screamed and grabbed his hand. “I just got burned.”
“By what?” Tori asked. “Oww!”
She grabbed at her neck.
“It’s raining,” Kent complained. “Acid.”
We ran for the protection of a building to get away from the microburst that had opened over our heads. The mini-squall moved down the street, dropping a light mist that sizzled and spit where it hit the ground.
“Now we know what the umbrellas are for,” Kent said. “That hurt.”
Another mini-squall sprinkled tainted rain on a group of people on the far side of the street. They instantly raised their silver umbrellas to protect themselves.
“You guys okay?” I asked them both.
“Yeah, it didn’t break the skin,” Tori replied. “What a nightmare.”
We rounded a corner and were faced with a building that looked unlike any of the others. It was shaped like a half-dome and took up an entire block. It stood only a few stories high and there was one large door that looked to be made of iron that was shut tight. In front were two armed Retro guards.
“Guess that’s where they keep the good stuff,” Kent said.
Directly across the street from the low dome was a huge building that towered over everything else. It was set back from the street with a large cement-paved courtyard in front. The front doors blew open and a crowd of people flooded out. Like the people on the street, they wore the dark-pants-and-bright-shirt combo. In this case, their shirts were all electric blue. Some raised silver umbrellas, others glanced to the sky for fear of getting dripped on and burned. The one thing that nobody did was talk. At least not to each other. Many had their eyes glued on handheld devices that were probably smart phones. It was a miracle there wasn’t a major pileup of these human drones bumping into one another.
“Looks like a meeting of the blue-club just got out,” Kent said.
“It’s eerie,” Tori said.
“What is?” Kent asked. “Besides everything.”
“All those people and nobody is talking to anyone else. It’s like they’re all operating in their own little world even though they’re part of a crowd.”
“I want to see what they’ve got going on in there,” I said and headed across the street.
Kent and Tori followed, both glancing to the sky for fear of getting burned again.
There was a small group of blue-shirt civilians standing in the courtyard, all staring at handheld devices. One guy spotted us, nudged his friend, and dropped a plastic cup onto the ground.
I ignored him and moved past.
“Hey!” the guy yelled.
“I guess they speak after all,” Kent whispered.
I knew he was talking to me so I stopped. The last thing we needed was to cause a scene and draw attention.
“Pick that up,” the guy ordered.
I wanted to swing the shovel at him, but I grit my teeth, took a few steps back and picked up the cup.
“That’s a good boy,” the guy said, taunting. “Get used to it. It’s your turn to clean up after us.”
I looked the guy in the eye and saw something I didn’t expect. At first I thought he was a typical bully who was showing off for his friends. That’s what bullies did for laughs and to prove their superiority. That’s not what I got from this guy. He wasn’t laughing. His buddies weren’t either. They all glared at me with contempt. Though I was the one being abused and had every right to be angry, it felt as though these guys truly hated me. This wasn’t some dumb prank, it was punishment.
“Say thank you,” the guy said through gritted teeth.
I didn’t get it. Why was I supposed to thank him after I picked up his cup?
“Thank you,” I muttered. It wasn’t worth getting into a fight over and drawing the attention of Retro soldiers.
The guy held up a threatening finger and said, “You’re lucky to still be here. Remember that.”
With that, the group moved on.
I wanted to run after them and ask what he meant, but Tori grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the building.
“Let it go,” she ordered.
“What was that about?” I asked, more confused than angry.
“Yeah,” Kent said. “I’m not feeling all that lucky to be here.”
“Did you see him?” I asked. “He wanted to take my head off.”
“I saw it,” Tori said. “I don’t get it either.”
We continued on toward the building and came face-to-face with a single Retro soldier who stood blocking our way. It was a woman who looked to be my mom’s age, wearing fatigues and a black beret.
“Hold it right there,” she commanded.
We stopped and immediately looked to the ground to show subservience. After all, we were lowly primates.
“What’s your number?” she asked.
For a second I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“He’s Zero Three One One,” Tori said for me.
I saw the outline of the baton weapon up Tori’s sleeve. She was ready to bring it out the second things went south.
The Retro soldier frowned. Something was wrong. It seemed as though she knew we weren’t supposed to be there, but how could she? She raised her handheld device and quickly input something.
Tori grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the curious woman.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Tori said. “We’ve got orders to report inside and we’re very late.”
“No, wait!” she called out.
We didn’t.
I expected the soldier to pull out a baton and start firing at us. Or sound an alarm. I stole a quick look back to see she was watching us, but more with curiosity and confusion than with disdain. For some reason she was having trouble processing our existence.
“Are you crazy?” Kent whispered urgently to Tori.
“Crazier to stay there,” Tori said back. “I’m not gonna just sit still and let them grab us.”
Kent glanced back and said, “She’s not coming after us.”
“Just keep moving,” Tori commanded.
We picked up the pace, and seconds later we entered through the swinging doors of the large building. Once safely inside, we stopped in what was a huge atrium-like lobby.
“Did you know her?” Tori asked me.
“No. How would I know her?”
“She sure seemed to know you,” Kent said. “I’ll bet she’s texting Bova right now. Or Feit.”
“All the more reason to keep moving,” I said and walked on, moving deeper into the building.
“Pretend like you’re sweeping,” I said to Kent.
He dropped the broom to the floor and gave it a few half-hearted pushes.
The place was bustling with people moving quickly as if late for appointments. There were a few soldiers in uniform scattered through the crowd, but mostly everyone wore the dark-pants-colorful-shirt combo. There were both men and women, and all sorts of ethnic groups represented as well. What I didn’t see were any kids or elderly folks. It was an evenly mixed, racially diverse group. The only thing they had in common, besides their outfits, was their total disdain for us. People blew by us like we were air. A few threw angry glares at us, but there was no more contact than that.
As with the group of people outside, none of them spoke to one another. There was no socializing. No chatter. No laughter. These people were all business.
A long, wide corridor stretched out from the far end of the lobby. A group of people all wearing red shirts hurried through as if they had just been released from a meeting. Nobody spoke. Nobody laughed. Nobody communicated in any way other than to look at their handheld devices.
They all seemed as emotionless and drone-like as their black fighter planes.
“I want to see what’s going on back there,” I said and made my way through the busy lobby.
To either side of the corridor were large rooms that appeared to be lecture halls. Each room was filled with people, all wearing the same colored shirt, all facing someone behind a lectern giving a speech. The rooms were open so it was easy to hear what each speaker was saying.
The speaker in the first room was a gray-haired guy who could have been a college professor. He wore the black-and-gray camouflage fatigues of the Retros. Floating in space behind him was a 3-D hologram of some sort of device with pipes and gauges.
“. . . continuing the supply of safe, clean drinking water is crucial. You will each be assigned to a critical filtration plant where your principal duty will be to keep the water flowing. If there are native survivors you can press into service to take advantage of their expertise, all the better, but our goal here will be to educate you on how to maintain and repair these systems without the need for native support.”
As he turned to refer to his floating diagram I motioned for the others to follow me to the next speech. We passed a wall that separated the two groups to find another lecture hall packed with people who all wore the same forest-green-colored shirts. On the stage was a woman in fatigues who was backed by the 3-D image of what looked like a massive herd of cows.
“. . . this feedlot in Greely, Colorado, was left intact. We have sent in operatives to ensure the continued health of the herd, but the effort to feed the colonies will be a great one that will require massive manpower. There are feedlots similar to this one all over the globe. They will be the principal source of our meat. Our protein. Refer to your tablets to learn of your assignments and the farms where you will be assigned.”
We moved on to the next lecture to find the audience was filled with uniformed Retro soldiers. My heart started to beat faster. Tori clutched my hand.
Giving this lecture was a heavyset guy with a buzz cut and golden eagles on his shoulders.
“. . . these are not your friends. They are not your brothers. When you look at the natives, there is only one thing that you should be thinking: You reap what you sow. Feel no pity for them. They have brought this on themselves. They are culpable and now they have paid the price. Do not form emotional bonds or friendships in any way, shape, or form. Do not deviate from the mission. Treating the natives like humans is a treasonable offense. Let me repeat that: a treasonable offense. Are there any questions?”
Nobody raised a hand.
“I’m guessing we’re the natives they’re talking about,” Kent whispered.
“They’re being brainwashed to hate us,” Tori added softly.
We continued down the long corridor of lecture halls hearing talks on topics like waste removal, housing, future dome construction, electrical power, and the proper use and administration of the Ruby to the natives. Us.
The three of us made it to the far end of the corridor after hearing an earful. A door led out of the hallway and into a stairwell where we could talk freely. We stood there for a long while, trying to get our minds around what we had just witnessed.
“It’s an invasion all right,” Kent finally said. “They’re training people to run the world. Our world. I’m telling you, they’re aliens.”
“I just can’t believe that,” I said.
“Really?” Kent shot back, exasperated. “Then what makes sense to you? That thousands of crazies from all over the world left their normal lives, got together to build this crappy city, and convinced the United States Air Force to wipe out most of the rest of the world’s population so that they could step in and run things their way? Oh yeah, and along the way they invented freaking mad technology and figured out how to manufacture it all without anybody knowing they were up to no good until it was too late? Is that what works for you?”
I wanted to argue and offer a reasonable counter-theory, but I had nothing.
“I think maybe Kent’s right,” Tori said meekly.
“Damn right I am!” Kent shouted, pacing anxiously. “We were invaded by aliens. They could be robots for all we know. They sure act like it. They studied us, they know how everything works, they think we’re no better than bugs, and they are about to overrun the planet. It’s over, Tucker. We lost. Get used to that orange suit because you’ll be spending the rest of your life in it. Or what’s left of it.”
“Suppose it is aliens,” Tori said. “That still doesn’t explain how they were able to construct this city and take over the United States Air Force.”
“I don’t think we’re on Earth, that’s how,” Kent said. “That transport thing shot us to the other side of the universe and this is planet Torchyourbutt.”
“No,” I said bluntly. “That isn’t it.”
“Why not?” Kent said. “Because it’s too hard to believe? I’ll believe just about anything right now.”
“Because there’s something odd about this place,” I said. “I can’t put my finger on it but there’s something wrong here.”
“Gee, you think?” Kent said sarcastically.
“I want a better look at this city,” I said and went for a flight of stairs that led up.
I took the stairs two at a time, climbing higher through multiple floors until I reached a dead end and a door that I didn’t hesitate to push open. We were hit with a rush of stinking hot air as we stepped out onto the vast, flat roof of the huge building.
We were higher than any of the surrounding buildings and now we could see for miles. The city before us was an extensive, clogged mass of similarly ugly structures. The hideous sprawl went on for mile after mile. There were no parks, no ball fields, and no green spaces whatsoever. None of the buildings had any character. It was one squat, sand-colored cube after another.
Again, the chemical smell hit hard.
“That’s where it’s coming from,” I said, pointing to my right.
Far in the distance, one end of the city was taken up by what looked to be factories. Soaring stacks belched dark, colorful smoke that joined to form massive clouds of industrial particles that hung over the city like a filthy rainbow.
“That’s what we’re smelling,” I said. “It must be where they’re building the planes.”
The only other structure that stood out was the giant steel dome that loomed high, not far from us. The rest of the city was a crowded, filthy dump.
“We really did come through the gate to hell,” Kent said, soberly.
“This is . . . this is wrong,” Tori said, stunned. “I’ve never heard of any city that looks like this and rains acid.”
“I don’t think anybody has,” I said. “This place must have been built secretly to prepare for the invasion. This is where the Retros have come to live and prepare to take over the world.”
“How is that possible?” Tori asked with growing frustration. “You can’t just build a secret city. Forget the government; anybody could see it on Google Earth.”
“But we’re not on Earth,” Kent said, adamantly. “You’d have more luck checking Google Pluto! That’s the only explanation. Whatever crappy planet this is they’ve found a way to transport themselves across the universe. And why not? Compared to this dump, Earth is a pretty sweet place to move in on.”
“I don’t know,” Tori said, bewildered. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right!” Kent shot back.
There was still something bothering me. It wasn’t just because it was hard to wrap my head around the idea that we had been transported to a strange, filthy planet in a galaxy far, far away. It was just the opposite. As alien as this place was, it also felt somehow . . . familiar.
“I still don’t buy it,” I said and strolled across the vast rooftop. “There’s a single yellow sun in a blue sky. It’s hot, but bearable. It may be polluted but we can breathe in this atmosphere. The people not only don’t look alien, they represent every ethnic group that exists and they speak English. How is it possible that another planet could be so much like Earth?”
“I told you,” Kent said. “They’ve studied us. They probably shape-shifted themselves to look and act like us. They did their homework.”
“No,” I said. “We’re missing something.”
I gazed out at the city. It truly was a wasteland. It didn’t add up that the people who built it had the knowledge to use such advanced technology, yet lived in obscene squalor.
My eyes wandered further out, beyond the edges of the city. We sat on pancake-flat land that was surrounded by arid, rocky mountains. I did a slow turn, taking in the full panorama.
That’s when it clicked.
Maybe it was the heat, or the small rocky ridge that rose up close to the city. It might have been the image of the giant steel dome backed by the distant range. Or maybe it was just the constant swirl of sand that collected in every corner and parched my throat. It was probably the combination of everything.
The reality of what I suddenly understood made my head go light.
“We’re not on another planet,” I declared.
“Rookie!” Kent shouted in exasperation. “You’re killing me. What other explanation is there?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t explain why, or how, or what it all means, but I know exactly where we are.”
“Where?” Tori asked. “Where did that portal take us?”
“It didn’t take us anywhere,” I said. “We’re still in the Mojave Desert in the Retro camp.”
My words stunned the others into momentary silence.
Kent was ready to argue but took a look around and said nothing.
Tori walked in a daze to the edge of the roof as she scanned the horizon.
A small blood-red cloud passed over, dropping a second’s worth of rain that crackled when it hit the surface of the roof. Nobody paid any attention.
The three of us stood together, looking out over this filthy city and the exact same Nevada landscape that had become all too familiar.
“This is impossible,” Tori finally said.
“Or maybe not,” Kent said numbly.
“Seriously?” I shot back at him. “You backing off your alien theory?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” he said with a nervous hitch in his voice. “I’ve read about stuff like this.”
“Where?” I asked, incredulous. “Graphic novels?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s science fiction, Kent,” I said, scoffing. “Fiction. That means not real.”
“I know, but a lot of that stuff is based on real theories. Even Einstein thought this might be possible.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“We could be in another dimension,” he said flatly.
We stood staring at him, too numb to respond. I wanted to laugh, but there was nothing funny about it.
“You can’t be serious,” Tori finally said.
“I’m dead serious,” Kent said, his excitement growing. “There are these theories that different realities can exist in the same physical space. I’m not talking about stories, this is from real scientists. Maybe that portal thing sent us from one dimension into another. Who knows? There could be others too. Hopefully one of ’em is good because this place is total crap and ours is sinking fast.”
I wanted to tell Kent that he was being idiotic, but I held back because I couldn’t come up with a better explanation. Inter-dimensional travel was as good a theory as any.
Tori said, “So you think there’s a whole different reality that exists right alongside ours in some alternate spooky dimension and the people somehow figured out how to break through the barrier so they could invade us? Is that it?”
Kent kicked at the roof nervously. “Well when you put it like that it sounds stupid.”
“Then put it some way that isn’t stupid,” Tori said, scolding.
“Zero Three One One?”
We all spun quickly to see the female Retro soldier who had stopped us on the street outside of the building. This time she wasn’t alone. With her was another Retro soldier . . . who had a weapon.
“What exactly are you doing up here?” she asked.
I did my best to act as if nothing was wrong. I raised the shovel and said, “Cleaning up. Our unit leader sent us here.”
“Your unit leader is building a barracks in the forward base camp, Tucker,” she said.
So much for acting as if nothing was wrong.
“Wait, what? You know my name?”
She held up her communication device. On the screen was my picture.
“This is you, isn’t it?” She asked. “And you’re Tori Sleeper and Kent Berringer?”
“I thought you didn’t keep records of prisoners?” Tori asked.
“Just the ones we’re watching out for,” she replied. “You need to come with me.”
I acted without thinking and threw the shovel at the armed soldier. He was so stunned that his first reaction was to catch it . . . and drop his weapon. I lunged at the guy and tackled him before he could get his wits back.
Tori didn’t hesitate either. I let go of the soldier and rolled away from him because I knew exactly what she would do.
She dropped the baton out of her sleeve and shot him.
The soldier let out a gasp, went stiff, and lay still—out cold.
The woman didn’t move. She stood there, coolly appraising us.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said casually, as if fights like this happened to her every day.
“Give me that thing,” I said, holding my hand out.
She shrugged and handed me her electronic device.
After giving it a quick look, I dropped it onto the roof and raised my foot to smash it.
“No don’t!” she cried, finally showing some emotion.
I brought my foot down and slammed my heel into the device, cracking the screen.
“There’s nowhere to hide, Tucker,” she said with a sigh.
“We’ll see,” I replied and took off running.
Kent and Tori were right behind me.
We sprinted back to the door we had come up through. I had no plan in mind except to climb down and somehow disappear into this twisted city. We were twenty yards away from the door . . .
. . . when it blew open and a Retro soldier stepped out.
The three of us put on the brakes and skidded to a stop. We all looked around, desperate for another escape route.
“Door!” Kent announced and took off running across the roof toward the far side.
I was breathing hard and coughing as I sucked in polluted air that burned my lungs.
“Damn!” Tori screamed and wiped at her hair as she was hit with a spit of burning rain.
Whatever this place—this dimension—was, it was a nightmare.
Two more Retro soldiers appeared through the door we were running toward. The roof had suddenly become a very crowded place. We changed direction again, only to see three more soldiers had appeared. They were spread out across the roof, surrounding us and closing in like a tightening noose.
Running was useless. We were trapped. We stopped in the dead center of the roof and stood with our backs to each other, helpless as the circle of Retro soldiers grew closer.
Tori lifted her weapon but I put my hand on hers to stop her.
“Don’t,” I said. “You won’t hit enough of them before they start shooting back.”
She fought me and kept holding the weapon up, ready to fire.
Each of the Retro soldiers had a baton trained on us. It was seven to one. Six actually. The soldier that Tori shot was unconscious. One of the larger soldiers had him slung over his shoulder.
Tori realized the futility and reluctantly lowered the weapon.
Kent held his broom threateningly, as if that would do any good.
“Back off,” he warned. “I’m serious.”
He said it as though he didn’t realize how stupid he looked. At least the Retros didn’t laugh at him.
The woman soldier who had first confronted me raised her hand as a signal and the others stopped advancing.
“Throw down the weapon, Tori,” the woman said calmly.
Tori didn’t budge.
“Do what she says, Tori,” I said.
“No!” Kent yelled. “I am not going back to that camp.”
“We’re not sending you back,” the woman said.
“So then what are you going to do?” I asked.
The woman stood staring at us as though trying to decide the best way to answer. After an uncomfortable few seconds, she slowly raised her right hand . . . and put it over her heart.
Tori gasped.
One by one, the other Retros followed her lead and put their hands over their hearts.
“We’ve been trying to find a way to get you here for a few days,” the woman said. “I should have known you would have found your way here on your own.”
Tori lowered the black baton as if the weight was suddenly too much for her to bear.
“I don’t understand,” Tori said, numbly. “You’re Sounders?”
“We are,” the woman replied. “I’m glad you already know about us, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at that, either. You three have quite the reputation for being resourceful. It’s an honor to meet the team that took out half of the Air Force’s attack fleet.”
My head was spinning.
Kent dropped the broom, letting it clatter onto the rooftop.
“How do you know who we are?” he asked.
“I told them,” one of the Retro soldiers said. It was another woman. “I don’t think they believed most of the stories until you showed up here,” she said. “You just validated everything I’ve been telling them about you.”
My heart started racing faster than it had when we were running. I was seeing it and I was hearing it, but I wasn’t believing it. It was easier to accept that we were on another planet or that we had somehow stepped through a magical portal into a parallel universe than it was to believe the sight in front of us.
The soldier stepped forward and pulled off her beret to reveal the short blonde hair of the beautiful girl who had sacrificed her life to save mine.
Or had she?
“Oh my God,” Tori said with a gasp.
“Surprise,” she said with a flirty smile. “Miss me?”
Olivia Kinsey was alive and back in the game.