Gregg Hurwitz - The Rains

From way up above me and a good distance around the rim of the valley came the sound of a construction truck’s engine turning over, then roaring to life. A thunderous crash followed almost immediately, several treetops shuddering conspicuously.

Patrick and Alex, purposefully botching their “getaway.”

I turned my gaze back to the factory. All around the assembly line, the Hosts stopped their work and stood in place, as if awaiting orders. On the foundation the young floating bodies looked even more ready to hatch, if that were possible. Stretch marks fissured their flesh, widening even as I watched.

Crashing sounds drew my focus to the bigger scene. From every direction the Drones bounded toward the Queen, a swarm of bees narrowing to enter a hive. More and more black space suits leached into view from the surrounding landscape, drawn to their dead leader. In their quest to reach her, they took giant leaps, smashing through fences, bushes, and even Hosts, destroying everything in their paths.

They formed a protective mass around her. Those at the perimeter faced outward, their helmets pointing at the hillside, masks aglow with blueprint-like renderings.

Assessing the hillsides.

I had forgotten to breathe, but seeing those black helmets aimed in my direction got me moving.

Jerking back from the edge of the knoll, I slid on my stomach across the sleek moss, bringing the rifle with me. I scrambled for the dark mouth of the hollowed-out tree, then crawled inside, brushing away spiderwebs, shoving the backpack and rifle ahead of me. The ancient tree was several yards across. The moist air of the tree’s core clung to my skin, the sound of my ragged breaths echoing up the shaft through the darkness.

I leaned against the inner wall, not even caring if I was squashing bugs beneath my back, and tried to calm myself down. Aside from the fall of light from the narrow hole I’d squeezed through, the heart of the tree was pitch-black. The darkness cooled the sweat on my face.

I thought about how the Queen had crumpled to the dirt, dead. All the kids she’d never hurt now. The master plan would go on, that seemed certain, but we’d managed to throw a wrench into the works. For that I allowed myself a flicker of pride.

My brother and Alex were high in the woods above me, running for their lives, and I took a moment to send all my hope to them across the distance.

I also said good-bye.

No matter what happened to us now, we’d done it. We’d killed the Queen, fired the first shot in the revolution. Maybe after we were gone, that would inspire other kids to take other measures.

I inhaled deeply and held my breath, listening for any sounds from outside.

A furious insectoid screeching carried up the hillside.

It compounded, rolling across the valley in stereo. I’d never heard such rage. Or such menace. I was glad to be hidden here inside the dark core of the giant tree.

Moving of its own volition, my hand dug in the backpack for another round. I wanted the rifle loaded in case they closed in on me. If I had to take myself out, I’d be ready.

Another series of screeches split the air, and I started, the round slipping through my sweaty fingers. Setting the rifle aside, I leaned forward, groping around in the dirt.

Across from me something glowed bluish white in the darkness.

A mask.

Belonging to a space-suit helmet just like those worn by the Drones.

An arm sheathed with metal flew out at me, a hand clamping over my mouth before I could scream.

The mirrored glass of the Drone’s helmet threw back my terrified reflection. The glow from the mask illuminated him sitting just like me, directly across the tree’s hollowed core.

A computerized rendering of his view blipped up on his mask, which appeared to me in reverse. It was similar to the one I’d seen in Ezekiel’s eye membrane. Except now the thing being outlined was me . Strands of my hair. The contours of my face. My cells pulled apart and analyzed.

“We have found you, Chance Rain,” a digitized masculine voice said. The mask flickered with the words, a blue fizzle for each consonant, like amplitude waves. “We finally found you.”

My brain whirred into overdrive, but unlike whatever program ran in his mask, it was offering no analysis. I was stunned, my body awash in adrenaline.

The figure spoke again. “Do not cry out,” he said. “You will give away our position.”

Beneath his armored glove, my mouth remained open in terror, the scream sealed in my throat. I managed to clamp my jaw shut. Then I gave a nod.

The hand released me.

He came clearer now in the bluish light. I blinked a few times, my night vision kicking in, helping the picture resolve.

He looked a lot like a Drone, but a closer examination revealed some differences. His space suit was charcoal rather than black, matte instead of shiny, and it looked scuffed and battle-worn. His powerful appearance may have been enhanced by the flexible armor that formed his suit. His position, slouched against the inside of the tree, one hand pressed to his gut, indicated that he was hurt. And he sounded hurt, too, light bars flickering with each labored breath, altering the volume of some of his words.

My breathing couldn’t have sounded much better, my chest still lurching from the scare. It took a moment for me to find my voice. “Who are you?”

“My name will make no sense to you,” he said.

As I watched the amplitude bars flicker, I understood the helmet to be translating.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

He raised a sheathed arm and pointed through the hole in the tree toward the dagger of blue sky. “Same as the Harvesters. But we oppose them.”

I shook my head, half expecting him to disappear as if he were a hallucination. “So you’re, like… rebels?”

“You can call us that.”

“How… how did you get here?”

“We travel by asteroid. Like them. And, like them, we have to prepare the way.” The glow from his mask flickered. “We are not as good at this nor willing to be as ruthless.”

“How do you know who I am?”

“We are capable of mapping and identifying-”

“No, I mean how do you know my name?”

Outside, the screeching started up again, scaring birds from the treetops.

“There is no time for that right now,” he said. “Listen to me carefully.” The glowing contour lines in his mask fuzzed, then regained their clarity. “You and your brother are the key to everything. Is he alive?”

“Wait,” I said. “What?”

The words came through the helmet, more intense than before. “Is your brother alive?”

“Yes.” Even as I answered, I wondered how much longer that would be true.

The head tilted back, a gesture that conveyed great relief. “It was all I could do to try to reach the nearest Hatch site to look for you two amongst the cages. I scanned them and searched the Husks as well.”

Husks. The kids floating on slabs, their bodies stretched beyond recognition.

But I was still stuck back on the prior revelation. “What do you mean, Patrick and I are the key to everything?”

“For the planet. For survival.”

“We’re the key? Us and who else?”

“Only you two.”

My head buzzed. “What are we supposed to do?”

“A mission. That only you or your brother can carry out.”

“A mission?”

“You have accomplished something extraordinary. You killed a Queen and shut down a Hatch site. That’s never been done before-”

“Wait-before where?”

“-but that is only the beginning. The next stage is about to commence. After the Hatch nothing will be the same. And it will all come down to you.”