Shane made his way across the dark meadow, past dwindling campfires encircled by young refugees. Nearly everybody lay sleeping on the grass, the long hike taking its toll. Heavy sounds of breathing punctuated by snores resonated off the forest to the east of the field. He drew near the fire his friends slept around. Only Tracy was still awake.
“You should get some rest,” he whispered.
“So should you.” She grinned, eyes puffy from sleep deprivation.
He looked over at Kelly, who slept nearby.
“At least she’s not flipping out anymore,” Tracy said. “I think her memory will return in a few days.”
“Thanks for saying so,” he said. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I am,” she replied. “Night.”
“Good night.”
Tracy laid down and put her arm over Jules, who was already asleep. He scanned the dark meadow one last time. The fire where Jones and his clones camped burned brighter than the rest, and he could see two of the rebels sitting up and tending it. Jones must’ve ordered them to guard the prisoner. Knowing they were on watch put him at ease.
Shane yawned. It was the first time all day his mind or body had a chance to slow down. He lay a few feet away from Kelly, looking at her back. He wished he could put his arm around her and pull her close to him. His earlier conversation with her made it clear she didn’t remember anything about their relationship. She’d probably freak out if he touched her.
It was a terrible feeling, to have her not remember him. He’d broken up with girls before, and had been dumped by girls, but this felt way worse. He remembered how she’d looked at him before. Her affection was the most precious thing he’d ever had, and it was taken from him. It made him hate the aliens. It made him want to find a way to kick them off Earth for good.
Shane’s mind drifted over everything they’d been through, and his eyes grew heavy. He slipped from reality into a dream about his dead friend, Aaron. They were playing football in the field behind his grandma’s house. Granny brought out some sweet tea and sandwiches, and they laughed together as they ate.
Sensing movement, he roused slightly as someone on the other side of the fire got up. He was a light sleeper, but it wasn’t enough to wake him fully. He rolled onto his back and slept again.
“Help,” Jones shouted.
Shane jerked awake, looking toward Jones’ campsite. The moon had risen, illuminating the silhouettes of people fighting.
“Jules,” Tracy said frantically.
She was gone from her spot by the fire. He cursed. Rolling to his feet, he ran toward the commotion, Tracy and Steve on his heels. Before they could get to her, he saw Jules push the clones who were trying to restrain her. She managed to get one by the head. Jules twisted her body with the clone’s head locked in her hands. Shane heard a crack, the clone’s neck breaking. Then Jules released the dead rebel and lunged toward Pelros, the Anunnaki prisoner.
Shane and Steve got to her, latching onto her arms from either side. They jerked her back from the prisoner and away from the other clones.
“Let me go,” she snarled. “They all must die!”
“Damn it,” Jones groaned. He rushed from one body to the next, checking for a pulse.
Jules had managed to kill two of the male clones and one Lily clone with her bare hands. Tracy stood by. Her eyes were wide with shock as she looked from the bodies to Jules.
“They’re dead,” Jones said, his voice cracking. He looked at Shane as if he expected him to do something.
Shane loosened the grip of his right hand, which held tight to Jules’ arm. Same as after she’d shot the transport the Anunnaki where in, she acted totally calm and collected. Maurice, Laura, Kelly, and Anfisa stepped out of the shadows, and all eyes fell on the bodies, and then Jules.
“You must know they have to die,” was Jules’ answer to their flabbergasted gazes.
The conviction in the tall girl’s face swayed him from trying to talk sense into her. Steve appeared too stunned to think, as did Maurice. Tracy’s eyes had pain in them. She seemed to know what had to be done. Still, he could tell she dreaded what he would say. He needed her, perhaps more than any of his friends. They all needed her. He hoped she wouldn’t hate him.
“Jules,” Shane said, his voice wavering. “You’ll have to be restrained.”
“Restrained?” Pelros demanded. He kneeled by the fire, his hands bound behind him. “She should be executed immediately.”
“Silence,” Jones growled at him. “Or you’ll be gagged.”
“If we don’t kill them, then we’ll be killed with them,” Jules pleaded, looking at everyone except the captain. “You have to believe me.”
“Why do we have to believe you?” Maurice asked, his voice gentle.
“Because I know it,” she replied. “I know it like Kelly knows all the weird shit she knows. You can’t ignore this.”
“We can’t just start killing people because your gut tells you they need to die,” Tracy replied, the sadness in her voice tearing at Shane’s heart.
“You don’t understand.” Jules’ brow wrinkled, her frustration evident. “I don’t want to kill them. I’m doing it for you. I’m doing it for all of us.”
“Maurice,” Shane said as calmly as he could. “Can you please get some rope?”
“For what?” Tracy objected, her eyes wide.
“Jules needs to be restrained,” he repeated, hoping she hadn’t thought he’d decided to hang her. “We can’t trust her not to do this again.”
Tracy nodded, appearing somewhat relieved though still more distraught than he’d seen her in a long while. Maurice returned with a rope, and Shane helped tie Jules’ hands behind her, being sure not to cut off her circulation.
“Take her back to the fire,” he said to Steve once he was satisfied she couldn’t get loose.
He watched the linebacker lead Jules away, his stunned friends following them. Alone with the rebels and the Anunnaki prisoner, he turned to Jones. The captain’s usual stoic expression was gone, replaced by sorrow and anger.
“They were my children,” Jones said quietly, standing over the dead clones.
“My sympathies, Captain,” Shane said sincerely, worried he’d want revenge against Jules.
“It’s not your fault. Or hers.” Jones’ shoulders slumped in defeat. “We brought this upon ourselves.”
Jones looked at Pelros. The prisoner held his gaze for a moment, seeming to formulate some comeback. Then his eyes fell to the dead clones.
“It won’t happen again,” Shane promised, trying to muster an expression of empathy. He didn’t want to belittle Jones’ loss, but it took effort to react to the dead clones laying on the grass, their tan faces aglow in the firelight.
Returning to his campfire, he stopped in front of a patch of tall fescue. Trampled by the kids when they set up camp, most of the grass in the field lay on its side. Just the few blades survived, their dry stalks holding seed-heavy heads three feet above the ground. Sort of like the humans, he thought, so few remained.
Even above the snoring of hundreds of kids, he could hear the songs of the field crickets, not yet killed off by the first frost. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the night sky. Only stars up there, no alien spaceship orbiting with Kelly imprisoned in it. Now she was here, but he still didn’t have her back, and he bore some of the blame. He’d condemned her to this fate when he agreed to let Lily activate her slave persona.
At least she was still alive, and Kelly’s memory loss didn’t seem to affect her ability to empathize and be kind. Her little sister was a stranger to her, but Kelly had made a point to hike the second half of the day next to Nat. The little girl seemed to benefit greatly from her big sister’s attention.
He stepped around the clump of grass, hoping it survived until they left.
“I’m going to grab some firewood,” Tracy said with a quiver in her voice that frightened him.
She took a last look at Jules with a mix of frustration, terror, and heartache in her eyes, and then turned and walked toward the forest.
They didn’t need more wood. He didn’t know what time it was, but he guessed the sun would be up in an hour or so, and then they’d be on their way. Shane glanced at Maurice and Steve, who were sitting on either side of Jules. Maurice nodded toward Tracy, indicating Shane should go and make sure she was all right.
“I’m going to help,” Shane said and walked after Tracy.
She slowed to a stop after she got past the last squad of sleeping kids. Her chin dropped to her chest, her shoulders heaved once, and then she stood motionless, staring at the ground.
Shane stopped a respectful distance away, gazing into the shadows the firelight made dance upon the trees.
“This is such horseshit,” Tracy said with a hushed voice. “I mean, haven’t we done everything right? We’ve fought this thing every step of the way, trying to set it straight. But we keep getting crapped on.”
“Sure seems that way, doesn’t it?” Shane replied.
Tracy crossed her arms and stared into the forest. Even in the dark, he could see her expression seethed with rage. He half expected the trees to catch fire under her gaze and was grateful she wasn’t looking at him. Keeping quiet, he stood nearby. She’d scooped him up a time or two, and he was ready to return the favor.
“I can’t stand the uncertainty,” she said. “At least before, we knew who we were, and who the enemy was. I’ve got a bad feeling about this green thing. Look what it’s done to Jules and Kelly.”
“We don’t know it did this to them,” he said. “It could’ve been caused by what they went through with the Anunnaki.”
“My gut tells me it’s Greenie,” Tracy replied, her voice calmer.
“You gonna be all right?” He studied her, concerned.
“You know I will,” she said, glancing at him. “I’m just pissed off, that’s all.”
The footfall of a person behind them drew his attention. One of the new kids, a skinny boy who was taller than Shane, walked by them. He stepped into the forest to relieve himself, by the sound of it. When he came out, the firelight glinted off the watch on his wrist.
“That wouldn’t happen to be a windup watch, would it?” Shane asked, doubtful. He had made it a habit to ask everyone still wearing a watch the same question. Unfortunately, they’d all run on batteries and didn’t work anymore.
“Yeah, it is,” the boy replied, sounding groggy. He looked down at the timepiece, then at Tracy and Shane. His right hand slid over the watch, concealing it from view like he worried they might try to take it from him. “My great-grandfather gave it to me.”
“Does it work?” Shane asked. “What time is it?”
“Seven thirty,” the boy replied, then hurried past them back to his campfire.
“Must be wrong,” Tracy mused. “Sun would be rising by now.”
“I wouldn’t tell him that,” Shane said. “He seemed awfully proud of it.”
Tracy nodded, then looked back at the forest.
“Can I buy you breakfast?” Shane asked, hoping to lighten her mood.
“Sure,” she replied, shrugging. “It’s not like I’m going to get anymore sleep tonight.”