Морган Райс - Return

“She’s changed,” Cub said, shaking his head. “She’s gone. Luna’s gone .”

He still had the gun in his hand, and his hand seemed to be shaking now, as if he were wrestling with a decision. Luna could guess exactly what that decision was, and she hated it.

“Don’t say that,” Leon said. “She might still be in there.”

Luna wanted to scream that she was still in there. She wanted Cub to see that she was still there, that… well, she didn’t know what happened after that.

Instead, she saw Cub lift his gun.

“I know what it’s like as one of those things. Even if Luna is in there, she won’t be for long. It sucks away who you are.”

“But she’s there now ,” Leon said. “We can still save her. The blast—”

“The blast converted people all around it during the battle, but it didn’t save Luna,” Cub said. Luna could see tears in his eyes now. “She’s gone, and now I have to do… I have to do the only thing that can be done.”

Luna could guess what he was thinking: that this was the same as with his father, Bear; that there wasn’t another choice; that he was sparing her from a fate worse than death. Even so, he was pointing a gun at her, and she hated it. How could he do that to her? How could he think, even for a moment, that it was the right thing to do?

“Wait!” Ignatius yelled, and he was the last person Luna would have expected to step between her and a gun. The chemist and former drug maker was nothing if not a coward.

“Get out of the way,” Cub snapped back.

“We can still save her,” Ignatius insisted.

“If she wasn’t saved when the blast went out—”

“Because she was at its center. The eye of the storm!” Ignatius said. He didn’t move aside. Luna hadn’t expected him of all people to stand in the face of that kind of danger. “It doesn’t mean that she can’t be saved. We just need—”

“What? To recreate the blast?” Cub demanded, and Luna might have wanted to dry the tears in his eyes if not for the reason for them. “Recreate a random burst of alien energy tuned to just the right frequency when it hit the crystals? Do you think I wasn’t paying attention to what you’ve been saying, Ignatius? If I thought there was a way…”

He pulled the trigger on his gun and Luna saw the dust at her feet kick up. Her controlled body didn’t flinch, didn’t even react.

“That was a warning, Ignatius,” Cub said, and Luna could hear the certainty in his voice now. “ Move .”

Luna tried to get her body to move so that Ignatius wouldn’t be in the line of fire, but she was imprisoned both within her own flesh and by the hands of those who held her. They wanted this. They wanted to make sure that the most people were hurt.

“The blast let us overwhelm the nanites involved in the change for hundreds,” Ignatius said, “but we can still come up with a cure for one person at a time. We just need to process it.”

Luna saw Cub hesitate at that. It seemed to be the only thing that was enough to do it.

“You can really do it?” he asked.

“Not here,” Ignatius admitted. “The damage from the battle is severe, but all I need is a lab with the right equipment, and a few specific pieces of machinery.”

“And in the meantime, we all have to hold onto Luna to stop her killing us?” Cub asked.

“We can build something to contain her,” Barnaby said. He already seemed to be working on it, holding up rough pieces of metal to the remains of a motorcycle trailer as if he could already see the way it fit together in his head.

“And she’ll pull in all the aliens from a hundred miles around,” Cub said.

Luna knew what he meant. The creatures controlling her would see everything through her eyes. They would know where to send more.

“We’re going to do that all by ourselves,” Ignatius said. “We owe her this, Cub, and I promise we can get her back.”

Cub stood there, but Luna could tell that he’d made his mind up. Maybe she should have felt grateful that he wasn’t going to kill her. Maybe she should have felt some pity for the tough decisions that he’d had to take already. Instead, all she could think of as he stood there was that he’d been going to kill her. He’d actually been going to kill her.

“All right,” Cub said. He backed away. “All right.”

Luna continued to snap and snarl, unable to help herself, while the people held her in place. She was everything that Cub feared she was, but she was more than that. She just didn’t have any way to let people know. A little further over, Barnaby was working on the enclosure designed to hold her. It looked like a kind of cage, made out of parts scavenged from the wreckage of the battle.

It came together slowly, piece by carefully constructed piece. As quickly as it came together, Luna felt herself gradually falling apart. She could feel memories sliding away into the depths of her being in a way that felt all too familiar. She’d felt this before, the first time she had been transformed, fragments of herself lost whenever she looked away from them, impossible to grasp, impossible to hold onto, like darting fish slipping through her fingers.

The memories of her parents slid into a vague kind of knowledge, with Luna unable to recall a single moment with them, a single instant spent laughing at home or arguing about chores or even sitting down together to eat. Luna knew the facts of her life, but couldn’t recall it. She couldn’t truly remember what it had been like to be in school, or to sit and watch TV, or to be outside, or…

…Kevin’s face came into her mind so sharply and perfectly that it might have been a photograph, and Luna clung to that image as tightly as she might have held onto a metal post in a hurricane. She wouldn’t lose Kevin, wouldn’t lose a single fragment of him. She wouldn’t lose the moments that she’d spent with him. Those moments seemed etched into her, from being there with him at the NASA Institute, to fleeing to the bunker and hiding from the flow of the vapor, to trying to bring down the aliens together.

There was something brighter about those moments than the rest of it, somehow. They stood out in Luna’s mind indelibly, and she managed to cling to them, holding onto thoughts of Kevin, and to all the things that she felt for him. That need, that love, seemed like a beacon in the dark that threatened to engulf her,

“Bring her this way,” Barnaby called out, and Luna looked up to see that he had completed his holding cell, so quickly that it stood as a reminder of just how talented he was when it came to building things. It looked roughly made, but the metal was thick, and the gaps between the bars were small enough that even Luna wouldn’t be able to slip out.

They carried her toward it, and her body fought even if Luna’s mind hoped that the cage would be strong enough to hold her. She felt her foot connect with a man’s jaw, her elbow slam into someone’s stomach. She felt blows connect hard enough to bruise or break bones, and it didn’t seem to make any difference. Most of the people carrying her now weren’t members of the Survivors, or at least, Luna didn’t think they were. Instead, they had the ragged look of the people who had previously been transformed. They seemed willing to help her even when the others were afraid.

They picked her up and flung her into the cage. Luna didn’t feel the landing. Instead, she rose and stormed for the door, but even her unbridled speed wasn’t enough to make it there before the metal slammed into place and the Survivors managed to lock it shut.

Luna threw herself against the bars, testing the strength of them. The pulsing instructions of the Hive told her to tear her way free and kill, to do as much damage as she could before they cut her down, but the metal didn’t give way under her hands, even when she tore at the bars hard enough to make her fingers bleed. That should have hurt, but like everything else as one of those transformed, it seemed to pass in a dream, almost happening to someone else.