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TWO DAYS EARLIER, HER life had been very different.
Such a peaceful setting. I couldn’t pick a better place to learn my life just went to hell in a hand-basket. Aubrey struggled to accept the terrifying news, feeling numb. She stole a look at her surroundings. It was an instinctive reflex, a mental attempt to flee from the unbelievable tale she’d just heard.
You’re in denial, Aubs. She glanced down, unable to control her trembling hands. Yes, that’s it. I’m in shock, and I don’t know how to make sense of anything.
The kitchen where she sat with her two friends usually felt welcoming, safe. The décor was modest but cheerful, and the last fading light of sunset added a comforting glow through the rustic window frames. Inside the unassuming little kitchen, two lanterns glowed brighter as daylight gave way to dusk.
They huddled in a compact circle around the table, in the same handcrafted wooden chairs they’d sat in dozens of times before. The familiarity of the scene stood in stark contrast against the verbal bombshell her neighbors had just dropped in her lap.
Thomas leaned forward, emphasizing his words. “The important thing is this—you can’t let on that you know.” Everything he said was at odds with the carefree demeanor she’d always associated with him. Thomas, the bearded carpenter, her down-to-earth neighbor, always building or repairing something in the small barn he used as a shop.
“You can’t tell anybody, and no matter what, you can’t hide here.” His usual easy-going nature had been eclipsed by a somber tension. Aubrey had never seen him so serious. Thomas never seemed to have a care in the world. “You’ve got to keep moving. Staying too long in one place is a short-cut to them finding you.”
Sarah cut him off in her excitement. “They can’t always spot you, Aubs.”
She reached out to place a hand on Aubrey’s arm, her voice reassuring. “They have to be within striking distance. That’s why you’ve got to keep moving.”
Like her husband, Sarah was about as normal a friend as anyone could ask for. Aubrey met them when they’d moved into the house next door a few months earlier.
She would’ve never—even in her wildest imaginings—thought of Sarah as anything more than simply a nice neighbor who loved puttering in her vegetable garden.
Striking distance? Aubrey’s mind balked at that, desperately looking for a logical way to refute them. She wracked her brain, looking for any sane argument—however remote—to make life go back to what she’d always known. What do you mean: striking distance?
“Who did this to me?” She seized on the obvious question—any question. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded high-pitched and panicky. “And why? Why me? How do I get it out of me?”
Her sentences ran together as her panic escalated.
Thomas shook his head, one hand raised as if to calm her, although he did not complete the gesture. “We have no idea why you were chosen, Aubrey. There doesn’t seem to be any pattern. At least, not one we’ve been able to identify. Honestly, we were lucky to figure out it was you at all.”
He exchanged glances with Sarah. “We don’t have access to the technology the Hoarders use, so it’s pretty much hit-and-miss. We were sent here to keep watch. Our information was sketchy at best. We had only a slim hint it might be someone in this town.”
Sarah took up the story. “When Thomas spotted a Tracker last week, we sent a request for one of the scanners. There aren’t many to go around, but we knew we were running out of time.”
Aubrey’s gaze flickered briefly to the scuffed satchel on the kitchen counter.
Thomas followed her gaze and spoke quickly. “You can imagine our shock when we activated it. We never suspected our next-door neighbor.”
Sarah interrupted again, her mannerisms betraying her agitation, despite her reassuring voice. “You have to head into the City, Aubs, right away. And I’m sorry, but we can’t travel together. They would know something’s up.”
She looked across the table at Thomas, her eyes troubled. “We think they may already suspect us, but we can’t be sure. That’s why we don’t dare go with you. Three people leaving town together would break the pattern, and they’re always alert for any deviation from our normal routine. Any routine, really.”
Aubrey felt a chill go through her body, one having nothing to do with the evening breeze wafting through the open window. The sun slipped below the horizon, and in the dim twilight, all she heard was crickets chirping and the pounding of her heart.
For the second time, a part of her mind stumbled at the wide gulf between the peaceful sounds of nature, and her friends’ world-altering news.
“Where should I go? In the City, I mean?” She no longer cared whether her voice betrayed the fear gnawing at her insides. “How will I find you once I’m there?”
Thomas shook his head a second time. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you. You have to leave right away. Tonight. Before they figure out you’re the target. If we know, it’s just a matter of time before they do. By then, it’ll be too late. They show no mercy, no quarter. I’m not even sure they’re human anymore, to tell you the God’s-honest truth.”
Sarah reached across the narrow space between them, grasping both of Aubrey’s shaking hands in her own. “Thomas is right. Trackers have no remorse, no conscience, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re soul-less. Once they know who they’re looking for, they won’t stop until they’ve killed you. Go to the City, Aubs, and look for the downtown Mission. It’s still open, despite all the shortages after the Hoarders took over. Tell John—he’s the manager—that we sent you. We’ll be a day behind you, maybe two.”
Aubrey’s mind reeled under the deluge of unwanted information. “But once I’m there, this thing—this Implant—it’s coming out, right? You’ve got somebody there who knows what to do? A doctor, maybe a specialist of some kind?”
Thomas and Sarah exchanged glances, but it was Sarah who broke the brief silence. “Not a typical family doctor, no. We do have a former army medic with the medical know-how to help you. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific. You’ll get more instructions once you’re there. You can’t reveal what you don’t know.”
It sounded to Aubrey as if Sarah was reciting a phrase she’d memorized.
The breeze rustled the curtains, blowing stronger now, and Thomas got up to close the window. Sarah also stood to her feet, bending down to lock eyes with Aubrey, looking concerned.
She can tell I’m going to puke, or at least I’m scared enough to. Aubrey tried to still her trembling hands. Why is this happening to me? Out of the whole town, why me?
“Listen, Aubs, this is very important.” Sarah spoke slower, emphasizing every word. “Trust no-one. You have to be as invisible as possible. Don’t draw attention. Don’t stand out from the crowd. The people in our network have a favorite saying: ‘hidden in plain sight’. Do you understand what I mean?”
Aubrey nodded, gulping down her fear. “The downtown Mission. Don’t draw attention.”
Thomas crossed the room to lean on the back of his chair. “Don’t take an unusual route, either. Just act as if you’ve been planning on visiting the City anyway. Cover your tracks without making it look like you’re covering your tracks. Just act as if everything’s normal. Hidden in plain sight, like Sarah said.”
He began pulling his jacket on, nodding at his wife. “I’ll get the rucksack from the shop.”
He glanced back at Aubrey. “We’ve been gathering some travel supplies for you, and we hid them underneath the floor in my shop. Give me a minute or two, and you can be on your way.”
Aubrey looked from Thomas to Sarah, overwhelmed by everything. As her eyes crossed the space between them, she saw it.
Just outside the back door. Even in the early dusk, she was aware of the unmistakable silhouette of somebody—or some thing—peering through the window in the door.
The newcomer’s features were indecipherable in the twilight, but whoever he or she was, their silent and uninvited presence was a bad omen. The stealthy anonymity only added to Aubrey’s panicky reaction.
And there was also something else . . . something strangely inhuman about the face hidden in the shadows.
The sudden change in her expression alerted her friends, and they whirled to face the back door. Sarah uttered a shocked cry, and Thomas hurled himself at the door, using his weight to hold it shut.
Sarah pulled Aubrey out of her chair, eyes wide with terror, and shoved her toward the sitting room at the front of the house. “Run, Aubs. Don’t stop, whatever you do, and don’t look back.”
She knows who, or what, is out there. Aubrey’s breath caught in her throat. And that scares her to death.
The door banged percussively on its frame as their unseen assailant tried to force it open.
Thomas threw himself against the wooden surface, slamming it shut once more. The windowpane splintered under the impact. The sound of the shattering glass set Aubrey’s nerves on fire.
Sarah raced back to join Thomas, snatching a large meat cleaver from the kitchen counter as she went.
Aubrey darted through the sitting room to the front door. She grabbed the doorknob, twisting it with sweaty hands, and stepped onto the front verandah. The street beyond was deserted and shadowy as twilight gave way to nightfall.
For a brief moment, her worst fears retreated. The street was deserted. It appeared only one of them had been sent to infiltrate the little farmhouse—and whatever was breaking down the back door must be one of the soul-less creatures Sarah warned her about.
Aubrey had never heard another human die before, but the wet, shuddering cry could only have come from Thomas. In spite of her fear, aware she might be forever scarred by what she saw, she looked over her shoulder, back into the over-crowded kitchen.
Thomas, bloodied and broken, clung to his killer with grim tenacity as his life ebbed away. Sarah launched herself at the thing, screaming in fury as she hacked at it with the cleaver.
Thomas’ body blocked the creature’s progress through the doorway, and Sarah’s ferocious attack was devastating.
Aubrey could only watch in horror, frozen, hands braced on either side of the open door. The scene unfolded as if in slow motion.
Just like they say in the old stories. A corner of Aubrey’s mind wandered, for an absurd moment, to memories of sitting around a campfire with friends, sharing ghost tales. Everything slows down, and then you die. What are you waiting for, Aubs? Run!
The creature raised a bloodied arm, blocking Sarah’s attack, while it kicked itself free from Thomas’ grasp. His lifeless body spun away, knocking over a kitchen chair.
The strength of the creature was enormous. With its uninjured arm, the Tracker lashed out at Sarah, flinging her backward over the table. Her cleaver—slippery from the thing’s blood—clattered to the floor, out of reach.
Sarah shot her a pleading look, launching over the remains of the table to tackle her husband’s killer. “Aubrey, get out of here! Please!”
Sickened, Aubrey realized there was nothing she could do, nothing that would stop the murderous advance of the thing. It was fanatical, determined to get at her. She backed away, grief-stricken in her powerlessness, and dashed out the front door.
She made it down the wooden steps of the porch only moments before an explosion lit up the night. The force of the blast knocked her off her feet, and she landed hard, face-down in the dirt.
Aubrey braced herself against the ground, wrenching around to stare in disbelief at the gutted interior of the farmhouse. She edged away, gasping for breath, ignoring the scrapes and bruises from her rough landing.
Only a portion of the sitting room was still intact. Flames spread with hungry greed to consume what remained. The kitchen was all but gone, and what little was left was engulfed in a roaring hell of fire.
She couldn’t see Thomas or Sarah, nor the body of the murderous creature.
They’re gone, Aubs. Her stunned mind tried to process the information, as dispassionate as if reporting an unfortunate incident involving complete strangers. The monster is dead. They killed it to protect me. Because of what’s inside me. Get up! Get up!
She spun around, still seated on the grassy yard, looking in all directions. She watched as curtains in the nearby houses cautiously parted. The neighbors were curious, but nobody wanted to get involved.
Aubrey was struck by a sudden wave of suspicion. Did they know I was a target? Did one of them betray us to the Hoarders?
She jumped to her feet and bolted full-tilt down the deserted street, fear-infused adrenaline coursing through her body.
Trust no one. Sarah’s warning intruded into her thoughts. Aubrey didn’t like the idea of embracing paranoia as a traveling companion, but maybe she didn’t have a choice. Not if she wanted to stay alive.
She ran more blocks than she could count, until a pain under her ribs forced her to slow. From somewhere within came the inspiration to step into a nearby alley to catch her breath, and wait for the stitch in her side to go away. She slipped into the shadows, heart pounding.
She leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for breath as she recovered from her reckless flight. Her heartbeat returned to normal, and her frantic thoughts slowed, gradually becoming more rational.
Don’t draw attention, Aubs. She forced herself to rehearse Sarah’s mantra, making it her own. Don’t stand out from the crowd. Hidden in plain sight, remember?
Running like a chicken with its head cut off isn’t going to help.
She stepped to the mouth of the alley, looking up and down the street as she planned her next steps. She considered returning to look for—what did Thomas call it? —the ‘rucksack’ hidden in their little barn, but thought better of it.
It was too risky to go back. Any of the neighbors who had witnessed her hasty exit would be suspicious if she reappeared at the scene. The burning farmhouse would attract the very attention she needed to avoid.
And the potential of seeing her friends’ charred bodies was too much to contemplate. She shuddered again. No, she couldn’t face what lay behind her.
Her tiny rental bungalow would also have to be off-limits. There was no safe way to retrace her steps and gather extra clothing or supplies.
Maybe, if she was lucky and the neighbors peeking through their curtains hadn’t recognized her, the Hoarders would believe she’d been caught in the explosion. Would it be enough for them call off the hunt? Aubrey didn’t think so.
She straightened her shoulders, facing west. She was committed. There was no going back. The City, and then the Mission. Those were her goals now.
Goals which, she hoped, would keep the evening’s nightmare events—and the enormity of what she’d learned—from driving her completely over the edge.
Aubrey resumed walking, schooling herself to keep her steps calm and unhurried, as nonchalant as if she were taking a short stroll on a typical spring evening. She tried to clear her thoughts, but despite her best efforts, her mind filled once again with the traumatic kitchen scene.
Thomas, bloody and dying. Sarah attacking. The monstrous creature with no remorse, no conscience, no soul as it butchered her friends in an attempt to get its hands on her.
The Soul-less, the fanatical tool of the Hoarders, determined to gut her for an Implant hidden somewhere inside her body. The explosion.
Aubrey frowned as another image surfaced. Something she’d noticed about the shadowy face as it peered in the back door. Something unnatural.
She stopped dead in her tracks, shocked, as the image came into sharp focus. The creature’s left eye. The thin circle of red light around the left eye of the Soul-less, visible through its skin.
She dug her nails into her palms to control her sudden shivering, fighting against the overwhelming urge to run. One foot ahead of the other, Aubs. Now again. And again. Walk, don’t run.
Don’t draw attention. Don’t stand out. She pushed thoughts of Sarah, Thomas, and the evil circle of red light out of her mind. Hidden in plain sight.