J. Mitchell - Midnight City

The girl looked at him, wide eyed and desperate to get loose. But there was something in her look that made Holt pause, too, something behind the kid’s eyes. Those eyes seemed older than their owner, somehow. But wasn’t that true of all kids these days? The only survivors of the invasion? Weren’t they all forced to grow up fast?

“Please, we have to hurry,” the girl said. “They’re coming back. Please. ”

She was right: the Assembly were definitely on their way.

Holt shouldered his shotgun and drew the red Swiss Army knife from his belt. It was faded with age now, but Holt kept it in good shape, and it had never let him down. As strong as the little girl’s bonds were, the knife surprisingly cut straight through them. He made short work of all four.

Holt grabbed the kid’s hand and pulled her toward the tear in the ship’s hull. “Stay low, hold on to me, okay? Can you do that?” In response, Holt felt the little girl grip his hand tightly. Something in the grip implied not only her fear, but her trust in him as well. Holt wasn’t sure if he liked it.

Either way, he whistled three quick notes, and Max darted back the way they had come, clearing a path through the smoke. Holt and the little girl followed and exited the crashed ship. Outside, the fires from before had extinguished, and everything was covered in shadow again. Holt and the little girl took big breaths of fresh air.

Holt drew a flashlight, knelt down before the girl, shone it all over her, looking for injuries.

“You seem all right,” Holt said. It was true—if she hadn’t been covered in grime and soot from the crash, no one would guess she had been through anything remotely traumatic. She stared up at Holt with huge eyes. “What’s your name?” Holt asked her.

“Zoey,” the little girl said, her voice still a little shaky. “My name’s Zoey. We have to go. Like I said, there isn’t much time.”

Holt studied the kid more closely. She looked like every other little girl he had ever encountered, harmless and shy, with long blond hair that trailed down her small back, a cute button nose, and perfectly clear, deep blue eyes (still too young for the Tone to begin showing). She wasn’t wearing anything unusual, just cargo pants and a small shirt. Everything about her was ordinary, and there was nothing to indicate what she was doing in that ship. The lone passenger of a strange Assembly craft shot down by its own kind. It was wrong, very wrong, but regardless, as she’d said, there wasn’t much time. The Assembly would be here in force in minutes, dropships unloading walkers all throughout the forest. He had to leave now to get out before they cordoned off the whole area.

That left him with a decision to make.

Take the girl with him? Or leave her, now that she was free of the ship? His inclination was to leave her. She was a survivor, after all. If she didn’t know how to take care of herself, she was doomed either way. But… there was something about her, something that stirred feeling in him. It was the way she looked at him, Holt decided. How her eyes held and peered into his without hesitancy, as if she were gazing into him. Not just at his surface, not just at who he appeared to be… but who he really was.

It was silly, of course, probably his imagination, but still, no one had looked at him like that in a very long time. No one since Emily.

Taking her, of course, meant a whole host of problems, and problems weren’t something he was short of right now. He’d have to transport Mira and the little girl at the same time. Concentrating on keeping the girl alive meant concentration he wasn’t spending on watching Mira, who was definitely looking for an escape plan.

“Look who found a friend!” Mira shouted down from her tree, as if on cue.

He looked up at her, and she smiled back pleasantly. Holt didn’t like it. She seemed smug… and that was the last thing the girl should be right now. She should be defeated, frightened maybe, but not smiling. Had she come up with a plan?

Holt quickly glanced around the ground near Mira, saw her pack, but it was well out of reach, so it couldn’t have been that. Still…

A sound from the east. Far in the distance. Holt looked away from Mira toward it, but the trees were too thick to see anything. He could only hear it. A pulsing tone of sound that blared loud and rhythmic. Over and over. He had never heard anything like it, but he recognized it for what it must be. Some kind of alarm. There was one thing he was sure of, however. It was not man-made, not human. It was too… different. Alien.

It must be the Assembly.

But where could it be coming from? There was nothing in that direction, not until you got to—

Then it hit him. Chicago was to the east. The Presidium. The Assembly, the blue and whites as he now called them, had just raised their alarm. It could only be that. But why?

He looked back down to the girl at his feet, felt Zoey’s hand grip his even tighter. She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“We have to go,” she said again, a tremor of fear in her voice. “Please.”

“Why?” Holt asked instinctively, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. “What’s coming?”

“Them,” the girl replied. “ All of them.” The simple answer chilled him.

The alarm continued to sound from the east, frenzied and angry. Plans had been thwarted tonight. And this girl, this Zoey, was somehow at the heart of them.

“Whatever you’re going to do,” Mira said, listening to the echoing, distant alarm uneasily, “do it quick.”

“Can you walk?” Holt asked Zoey. She nodded, holding his gaze. “If they’re coming in force, we’ll have to keep moving. Can you do that? Move and not stop?”

“Yes,” the girl said. “Thanks, Holt.”

Holt nodded, quickly started packing up the campsite. He folded up his cot and sleeping bag, put them in his pack, grabbed Mira’s, too, threw it over his shoulder, then moved up the hill toward his captive.

“What do you call it?” the little girl asked in fascination behind him. She was standing over Max, staring down at him. The dog stared back, his tail thumping the ground eagerly, hopeful he had found someone to rub his head.

“That’s Max,” Holt said as he reached Mira and started loosening her ropes. “We have a working relationship. He helps me out, I scratch his ears.”

“It’s a… Max,” Zoey said to herself. “Can I ride him?” she asked, her voice full of hope.

Holt laughed. “I’m not totally sure that would work out.”

Zoey reached down and petted Max. Max made no attempt to stop her.

Holt started untying Mira’s ropes. As they loosened around her arms, she sighed in relief.

“Don’t remember tying your arms so tight,” Holt said. “Should have told me, I could have loosened it.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” she replied, watching him as he untied her bonds. He noticed her eyes again. Green, like emeralds.

Holt frowned. Emeralds or not, they weren’t pretty eyes. Nothing about her was pretty, he assured himself. She was his captive, and that was that.

“Sucks to be you,” Mira said. “Transporting the little girl and me at the same time, Assembly closing in. Admit it, you’re losing control, you won’t be able to hold it all together.”

Holt untied the rest of her ropes, pulled her roughly to her feet. He spun her around, tied her hands with the same rope, then tied it to himself, so she was connected to him.

“I think I can handle it,” Holt said. She stared back at him without comment.

With three clicks of Holt’s tongue, Max grudgingly pulled himself away from Zoey and darted ahead into the forest to scout. Holt, Mira, and Zoey followed after him at a quick pace.