Blinding light seeps into the cracks of the armored vehicle. The bright rays cut my skin as I'm pummeled by the intensity of the beams. I force my eyes open.
I'm back in the empty truck. The straps of the belt slice through my battle dress uniform as I hang limp from the walls of the vehicle. The deep hum of invader shots muffle my screams. I call out to Dean again. I can't hear his name erupt from my throat.
The straps holding me in place click. I plunge into the recesses of the VRAP. I extend my arms to break my fall.
With a crash against perforated metal flooring, I jolt awake.
My body aches. Major joints howl in agony as I hoist myself up by the railings of the catwalks in the iron workshops. The heat from the massive forge rises, stinging my bare feet.
How did I get here? The catwalk above me sways from side to side. I must have fallen.
Twisting my wrist around to stretch the unexplained soreness, I catch the time. 0402.
The night terrors are back. I knew the fly-over would have this effect on me. This time, nobody's in the pod to stop me from wandering around the URE in my sleep.
My neck cracks as I roll my head over my shoulders. Better return before anyone catches me out here. Leaders of the evacuation can't be seen reliving their nightmares. This is the kind of shit that will reassign a commander. I pull the long, raggedy nightshirt over the curve of my hips, hoping it at least falls over my six. At least no one will be awake at this hour to ogle it.
As I slink through the halls of Level 4, I note the burning reminders of the dead that float around us. The Wall of Heroes provides little cover as I creep past it, my fingers brushing the twelve new names inscribed in the stone structure. I crouch behind it as two militiamen cross my path on their rounds. They fix their eyes ahead, unaware of my figure obscured by shadows.
The second they clip the corner, I'm back out, treading on cold cement with bare feet. The structure of Our Lady of the Impenetrable Heap emerges.
The chapel's glow burns twelve candle-flames brighter. As I pass the open entrance, I peek inside to glare at Simon if he happens to be loitering around the area. But he isn't there. Instead, it's an elderly couple kneeling before the Lady, their heads bowed in deep conversation with the divine being. On another bench, just out of reach of the Lady's shadows, sits Dean.
His forehead rests against his knuckles. From my place in the doorway, I can see his pain. I wasn't able to reach him after the fly-over, but maybe I could join him now. Would he appreciate a friendly hand on his shoulder or a pair of arms around his waist? I step into the flickering shine of the candles.
"Janika?"
I spin around to jab my attacker in the throat. Brother Roy stares at me with wide, wild eyes as I force myself to calm down, lower my hand, and back away from the chapel.
When I arrive at my pod, the neighbors are sprawled over the couch, the 0500 news whispering to the sleeping audience.
"The recent fly-over of the Invaders is a serious wake-up call for us," one reporter says to the other.
"That's right, Norm. The Invaders have never been this close before. The President is expected to put us under a warning order at any time now."
"We welcome Valorie Gaines, lead analyst on Invader behavior. Ms. Gaines, what is the likelihood of a second attempt on the URE?"
I block out their murmurings. I'm awake. If I can help it, I'll never sleep again.
YOU ARE READING
ARC10
Science Fiction[Book 1 of the ARC10 Trilogy] **Winner of the 2017 Watty Storysmith award** The President created an underground safe-haven for the survivors of the alien invasion. He built it to save them all from total annihilation. He protects them, feeds them...
