Nathan Hystad - The Survivors - Books 1-3

W e moved quickly through the night. Part of me wished I could watch the ground fly past us as we traveled, moving over the Middle East toward Siberia, where Jeff claimed the hybrid camp was located.

“I had a talk show for a few years on extraterrestrial beings, and the likelihood of life outside of Earth. Ever since I was a child sending letters to MUFON, I’ve been ridiculed for my beliefs. It didn’t stop there. Even as a successful television host and blogger, I had hate mail, and naysayers putting me down. Could you imagine the thrill I had when one of the hybrids approached me a year before the Event?” Jeff’s smile started to creep back onto his face.

“What?” Mary asked, as incredulous as I felt.

“Kyle came to a filming of one of my interview shows. He sat in the front row, and there was something familiar about him, like I’d seen him before. It turned out that I had, on a conspiracy blog about aliens among us. It showed images of Kyle’s other lookalike hybrids. He was the Caucasian male, dark hair.”

I glanced over at Mary, knowing Jeff was describing the hybrid that had looked like Bob, her husband. She just turned and gave me a forced smile.

Jeff continued. “The site had done a good job of identifying this man all over the world. There were at least ten sightings; each of the men looked very similar, though some wore their hair differently and dressed differently. The site wasn’t a big one, and most people assume these things are fake or Photoshopped anyway, so it didn’t make any mainstream news. When I realized this man in my audience was one of them, I couldn’t wait to speak with him. I remember how nervous I was after the show was done filming. Kyle lingered in his seat, long past everyone else’s departure, and once the crew was gone, I walked over to him, heart pounding, knowing this was the moment I’d been waiting for. I was right.

“He told me his name and asked if there was somewhere we could talk privately. I agreed to it, and we left the studio. We walked to an all-night café nearby where only a couple of night-shift workers were hanging out, giving us ample opportunity to talk without prying ears.

“The story he spilled was insane, even to me, a full alien believer. He claimed that a race of aliens was coming, fleeing their own system and making the trip to Earth, where they would dispose of us all, claiming the planet for themselves. I asked him how he knew this, and he said he was a hybrid alien, part Kraski, part human. He looked sickly and was coughing up a lung by the time our pie came to the table.” Jeff paused briefly to look at Leslie, then Terrance, before starting again. “I asked him what I was supposed to do about it, knowing he had to be crazy. I would have left it alone if I hadn’t seen him on that conspiracy website. That he was already being touted as an alien by some blogger made me listen to him. The idea that he may have been the guy behind the website crossed my mind, but this man was so into his story, I almost believed him.”

The ship jumped a little bit, and my heart hammered in my chest, thinking we were being attacked. “Just turbulence,” the pilot said from the front seat. I craned my neck and there was Magnus, listening to Jeff’s story with interest. After a few more bumps, I clipped my seatbelt on, the rest of us following suit.

“What happened after that?” Mary prompted.

The TV host was looking forward, not meeting the gaze of anyone, just silent for a moment.

“Jeff?” I asked.

He turned to me, his eyes coming into focus. “Yes, sorry. I was lost in my story, I guess. So much has happened since that day, but it’s so clear in my memory. I can tell you what color and style his shirt was, and that his white sneakers were old, with dark scuff marks along the sides of them. I’ll never forget his next words.”

I leaned forward, drawn in like everyone else listening.

“He said we had no chance. He hated being used like a puppet and said that the Kraski could go to hell. That’s when he told me about the Deltras’ plan. It sounded insane and had far too many moving pieces to work,” Jeff said, his eyes shifting to meet mine. “He told me there were a few of them in the mix, but not to trust one in particular.”

He paused again, and Mary leaned back, pushing out an irritated sigh. “For the love of God, just say the name already.”

Jeff smiled, making me want to slap the words out of his mouth. “Mae. He told me not to trust Mae.”

“What good did that do?” I asked. “You didn’t tell anyone, and then sending an anonymous text to me telling me not to trust her. It could have meant anyone. Mary, Natalia, Patty… hell, even Leslie here. What did he say about Mae?” I was getting tired of Jeff’s demeanor, and wished he’d just sent the transport and stayed in London. “What did he know about her?”

Jeff shrugged. “I was trying to help you. She was with the Bhlat, wasn’t she? He was right, and I was right to warn you.”

“I think the part we’re having a hard time wrapping our heads around is this: you could have had a conversation with us before we traveled off into space with Mae by our side. Maybe, just maybe, these two could have stayed on Earth, and we could’ve not lost seven years with our loved ones. Maybe the hybrids wouldn’t be on lockdown now, wasting away in Siberia like murderers and terrorists,” Mary said, keeping her voice calm. I gripped her hand, squeezing it for support.

“Yes, but… then the Bhlat wouldn’t have come,” he said, his grin so wide I saw all of his teeth. His comment didn’t even register as I looked at him, thinking how much he looked like a wild animal with his teeth bared like that.

“What did you say?” Magnus asked from the front.

“Then the Bhlat wouldn’t have come.” Jeff repeated the words, and before we could react, he pulled a gun, aiming it at Terrance’s head. “Anyone moves, and I blow this man’s head off his shoulders. And I use the term ‘man’ loosely. He’s more of an alien monstrosity. Part Kraski, a terrible race of cowards, mixed with another race of turncoats and self-abusers: human.”

“Magnus, where are we going?” I asked, not able to see through the front window.

“We’re moving up, heading into the clouds,” my large friend said through a clenched jaw. If I knew Magnus, he was holding down the urge to slam the pilot’s head into the dash.

“Dinkle, what’s the endgame here?” I asked, feeling stupid for instantly trusting the stranger. We’d fallen right into his trap. Patty had been played by the man she thought she knew.

“The endgame is this: we already have Dalhousie and your other friends up there. Now we have the famed Heroes of Earth to bring as a sacrifice. Rumor has it they want your head on a stick, Mr. Parker. I wonder what for?”

My throat had closed, and I swallowed hard. They knew me. Naidoo had probably sold me out.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, the words burning on their way out. We’d come all this way, and now it was going to end at the hands of this slick television talk show host.

“No, I don’t, but humans have never interested me. Aliens? Now them, I can get behind. They’re going to show me amazing things. Speaking of which, how did you get to Egypt? Inquiring minds want to know your tricks.”

“You really think we’re going to tell you that?” Mary asked vehemently. I set a trembling hand on her thigh.

Terrance was staying far calmer than I would have with the cold steel of a gun against my temple. I had to hand it to the guy; he was cool as a cucumber. Leslie was fidgeting. I hoped she wasn’t about to lunge at Jeff, because her friend would probably end up dead if she did.