Michael Siemsen - Exigency

ANGELA: Those are those worms! The zombie ones! WTH?

So the question was, did Unhkte see the parasites approaching? Were the worms the source of the guards’ excitement? Was being infected actually a part of the keepock rite of passage? Minnie definitely hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort. It had to be some kind of discipline test. The Threck must have developed an extraction procedure, carried out before the youths became truly infected.

Indeed, and to Angela’s horror (tightening death grip on Tom’s right hand), the worms disappeared beneath the three Sootskee, and none of the children moved. Their eyes remained hidden. Unhkte’s clubs came slowly together and turned upward.

LIVETRANS: [Contented approval]

ANGELA: This is sick.

TOM: I know. I appreciate you keeping it together. You, me, tent, soon.

ANGELA: Something’s coming.

Tom looked up again and saw what she meant. Beyond the epsequoia ring, the tops of bushes thrashed about on course for the circle. He caught movement to the left and saw more commotion there—things moving beneath the jungle canopy. These must have been the Threck overseers, coming to yank those worms out before it was too late.

But Unhkte’s shock nullified that idea. She sprang up to full height. “No! Raiders! Guards, get down there!”

An instant later, a naked Threck pounced from between two epsequoias, landed beside the unmoving children, and raised a large club over its head.

“No!” Angela stood and shrieked, but it did no good.

The club came down with all the Threck’s strength, smashing the first Sootskee’s head deep into the ground.

The blur of Skinny’s running legs, the crack and breath static of Qin’s frantic voice in Aether’s ear module as they descended the slope, the open direct-connect request to Tom and Angela blinking in the air before her, shouts and screams—English and Threck, grisly crunches, alarm whistles, blazing jungle flames, coughing up the fire’s lung-burning hydrogen chloride smoke, inflammatory and deadly for Epsy non-natives, “Visors! Close visors!”, Angela’s face—overwhelmed and terrified—Skinny grabbing, Tom resisting, dead Threck, dead Seekapock, more running and climbing and running.

Sweat pumped from Aether’s pores, coursing in thin streams and sheets down her back, belly, inner thighs, and forehead. On autopilot, she followed behind Angela. Tom held Angela by the wrist; Skinny had Tom by an unfastened belt strap, like a leash. He’d given up protesting several kilometers ago.

Beside Aether, other Seekapock ran, nudging her and Qin along whenever they fell back. Her bio eye stung, but it wasn’t a simple sweat sting. It was getting worse by the second, as was a similar burning around her fone eye. The inner lids and ducts.

“We need to stop,” Aether said through her open channel to the team.

Tom hacked between desperate, wheezing breaths. “Tell… that… to this… guy.”

“I can’t go anymore, either,” Angela rasped.

Aether sent a translation through her PA. “Stop. Now.” But her volume was still low from earlier. She raised it close to max and resent.

Skinny halted at once and the team collapsed in unison.

“What is it?” Skinny said.

“Why stop?” another said. “Almost close.”

Aether ignored the Seekapock. “Get your helmets off. We need to clean our faces and any hair that was exposed back there. Anyone else’s eye burning?”

Angela, on hand and knees, grappled about her neck in search of the helmet release. Her voice quavered, deep in her throat—a faltering shot at bravery. “I can’t open mine. Searing.”

Qin’s medic instincts took over. Still panting, he said, “Sit tight and no one rub anything.” He crawled past Aether to Angela, patted her arm, and opened her backpack. “It’s a good thing you two followed procedure.” He pulled out the medkit, opened the flaps, and unfolded it on the crunchy mulch ground.

“Up now,” Skinny said. “We go.”

The other Seekapock paced about the spongy scrub, facing back toward the city.

“We have injuries, Skinny,” Aether replied. “We can’t move until fixed. Go on without us.”

“Try to open them a little as I squirt,” Qin said to Angela. “You’ll be amazed how fast it’s neutralized. Come on… just a peek. I’m starting with your implant—”

“I can’t! Just hold on! Do someone else first!”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Tom said, rubbing Angela’s side. “We can all at least open our eyes. If he doesn’t get the acid out, it’ll keep doing more damage.”

“I know,” she said, still squeezing her lids shut while curling a fetal position. She reached up to rub her eyes and Qin pushed her hand back.

“None of that, now. It’ll make it worse. Tom, can you…?”

Tom grabbed Angela’s wrists and tried to roll her onto her back.

“Qin, Qin,” Angela pleaded. “Qin, listen to me… Oh, come on, let go! Thomas, if that’s you… I’m serious—”

Struggling through her own pain, Aether saw Qin’s eyes blinking rapidly—his bio eye clearly more irritated than his fone lids. She pulled a medipad from the packet and wiped it across Qin’s forehead. He flinched a little and looked at her, grateful. She flipped the pad and ran it over his closed eyes.

“Thank you,” he said as he fought with a still-belligerent Angela to pry open one eyelid.

“I know I have to and I will!” Angela shouted, tilting her head side to side. “But you can’t force me! It makes it worse! You know this, Thomas! I’m so kicking your ass! All asses!”

“This one is too loud,” Skinny said. “Threck certainly coming. Make it stop. Not leaving Orange People. Go now.”

Qin got her fone eyelids open and blasted neutralizer. “Yes! Now the other.”

Angela snorted and stiffly rolled onto her back. She growled through clenched teeth. “Just let go of my damned arms, please.” She stopped fighting and Qin was able to part the eyelids and squeeze in more neutralizer.

Tom slowly eased his grip until loose enough for Angela to yank her wrists free. Qin handed the bottle to Aether and wiped Angela’s face and hairline with medipads. Aether passed the bottle to Tom.

“Did you get yourself yet?” Tom asked her.

“I’m fine,” Aether said. “Get this stuff in there before you have corneal damage.”

Tom accepted the bottle, brow knit. “Thanks, Mom .” He leaned onto his backside, tilted his head back, and squirted the solution into each eye, wincing and blinking rapidly. “Oh man, it hurts before it doesn’t.”

Aether crawled around Qin and cradled the back of Tom’s head, his chin raised to her like a small child. She smiled inside, hearing his “Thanks, Mom” repeat in her mind while carefully dabbing his eyelids with the pad corners. “Better?”

Tom nodded and grinned, the nurturing moment not lost on him. “It’s really good to see you. You know, besides all the crazy and blood and whatnot.”

She kissed his forehead. “Just need the rest of my babies safe, too. All of them.” She released Tom’s head and helped Qin lift Angela into a sitting-up position.

“Growing anger,” Skinny said. “Go now. No say no.”

Aether ignored Skinny and held Angela’s face between her palms. “How we doing, mija?”

“It’s not crying, you know,” Angela said, half joking, as tears streamed out her still-shut eyes. “It’s involuntary.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Aether said, stroking her hair. “These are purely reflexive. Can you open the bio for me to have a quick look?”