It was a hot, summer day. Mary and her little brother were playing in the field by their uncle's farm. Just a normal, plain day. Mary yelled at her brother to get off the road. Since she was eight, and practically a grown up, he had to listen to her. Especially since he was only six.
They watched as two vehicles drove by the farm. One was a blue truck. The other was a . . . a . . . A motorcycle, Mary remembered. It was a pretty red, all shiny and sparkly. Mary went back to playing Dragon and Princess with her brother. They saw cars drive by all the time. Mary and her brother headed in for lunch. Of course nothing was special about these particular cars.
And of course there was nothing to suggest that in these particular cars were two aliens and a Chimera on a quest to save the world.
"So, any idea where we're going?"
The voice pulled John form his reverie. He had been thinking about all that had happened in the past couple of days. The big fight against the Mogadorians. Henri's death. Leaving Sarah. John always felt guilty when he thought of her. He missed her just as much as he missed Henri. And he might see Sarah again. But he'd never see Henri again.
"John?"
"Well, I think what Six has in mind is to go find Number 7. He's in Prince Edward Island," said John, turning to see Sam, who had started his driving shift two hours ago. John had driven for six hours before that. They'd driven all through the night, and had only made one stop and some run-down diner in the middle of nowhere.
"Like, Canada?"
"Yeah."
"When is Jane planning on stopping?"
John looked out the windshield to watch Six. From what he could tell, she was fully awake and completely energized driving her motorcycle. She hadn't even taken a break to sleep, and she'd been up for at least ten hours. John supposed that she'd had to learn to be tough and keep awake by herself since her Cepan had died. John didn't know how she could have survived on her own so long. Henri had only been gone a few days and John was as lost and confused as a newborn. And then right after Henri, Sarah had gone . . . Stop he told himself. Don't make it worse.
He pulled his attention back to Sam. "You do know Jane is a fake name, right?"
Sam looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Jane Doe is like, the name they give patients at hospitals who've forgotten who they are," John continued, talking so he wouldn't have to think. "None of us have real names. Or, we did, but we've forgotten. We change our name every time we move so it's harder for the Mogadorians to track us. Names don't really mean anything.
"So, what, do I just call her Six?"
"Guess so."
"Do you want me to call you Four?"
John thought for a bit. Right now, all he wanted to do was get away from who he was. He wanted to go back and have a normal life with Sarah, a normal relationship. But instead he was driving on a dirt road with a wounded shape shifting animal on his lap trying to find other aliens so they could save Earth and the somehow repopulate Lorien. John didn't even want to think about what that meant.
"No," he said. "John's fine."
Sam stared out at the road for a little while. "Good," he said finally. "Four's a sucky name."
John looked at him. "And Six isn't?"
Sam smiled. "Yeah. We'll have to work on that one. I'll come up with something."
Suddenly, Six pulled over to the side of the road. The boys did the same, and John hopped out of the truck.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I'm low on gas. We'll need to stop by a station soon."
"There's one not too far ahead," said Sam getting out of the truck, carrying a huge map in front of him. "If we take a left at the next intersection, we should be . . ." he stopped, seeing the look Six was giving him. John waited. Six was still glaring. Sam cleared his throat, then slowly made his way back to the truck. Six waited until he had closed the door, then turned back to John, who was frowning at her.
"What?" she asked.
"He did come along for a reason. We're looking for his dad too. He's one of us."
"Doesn't mean I have to put up with him. Face it, he's slowing us down. And if the Mogadorians really abducted his dad, he's probably dead. They don't keep prisoners."
John sighed. "I know. Just, don't tell Sam. He's been trying to find his dad for his entire life. I don't want to ruin that for him."
"Whatever."
"So, I'm assuming we're heading to Canada, right?" asked John, changing the topic.
"Yes, for Number Seven. Is there a problem?"
"Are you planning on stopping at all on the way there?"
Now it was her turn to frown. "We did stop. At that diner place."
"For ten minutes. It's just, some of us aren't used to going 24/7,"
Right on cue, Sam opened the truck door and stepped out. "Um, just wondering. I thought we should maybe stop for a bit. For Bernie Kosar," he added quickly. "And, maybe we could eat something and sleep for a bit . . ."
Without looking at him, Six pulled a gun out of her belt and pointed it at Sam. "Get back in the truck."
Sam had instinctively raised his hands. Now he sighed and got back in, slouching in the seat.
"I can't believe you carry those things on you," said John, motioning to the gun and the two knives Six carried with her. "You're going to get us arrested."
"Best to be prepared." She turned to get back on her motorcycle
"Seriously though," he said, grabbing her arm. "We should rest. Bernie Kosar's still healing, and honestly, I could do with some rest too."
She stuck out her jaw stubbornly, then thought about it. "I guess we all could do with some rest. Follow me on the road for about another hour. I know a place." She looked towards the truck. "Humans." She rolled her eyes. "No stamina." She got on her motorcycle, and turned on the engine.
John was already heading back to the truck. He got into the driver's seat. "I can still drive, if you want," Sam said.
"Nah," John said. "I like driving." It helps me stop thinking, he added silently. "Besides," he said, looking over at Bernie Kosar, a Chimera from Lorien who had been wounded fighting a Mogodorian beast. "You look like you're busy with the full time occupation of being a pet bed. And," he said, noticing something else, "a drool sponge."
"Wha-?" Sam looked down. "Gross! Ugh," he leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. "This day just couldn't get any better."
"Well, look on the bright side. Six only threatened to kill you once today."
"Twice," Sam said, without opening his eyes. "We went to the diner at two in the morning. Remember when I spilt the coffee?"
"Oh yeah. Smooth." John grinned, and turned his attention to the road, following the bright red motorcycle and the alien aboard it.
"We believe we saw them heading northeast," growled the Mogadorian in its strange language. "We took a picture of them at this human facility." He handed a picture to the alien in shadow. "We believe that is Number Four. Unfortunately we lost them from there."
"Lost them?" asked the leader. "Lost them?" he continued, in English. Among all of the Mogadorians on Earth, he was the only one who could speak the common Earth language. He found it gave him an opportunity, an open door that was closed for the others. "Well, that's too bad." He enjoyed switching between the two languages, to prove to the others how smart he was, how right it was for him to be the leader. Humans! He laughed when he thought of them. They're fragile little bodies and minds were good for nothing but amusement and entertainment. They were fools, they were not advanced. And soon he would show them how pathetic they were. But first he had to kill the remaining Lorien Six. They could be killed out of order know, thanks to numbers Four and Six. In allying themselves, they had assured the downfall of others of their kind. The location of Number Five was already being pinpointed at this minute. The leader smiled gleefully, then returned his attention to the scout who was grovelling in front of him. He was a good scout, but he had lost the targets, and that was unacceptable. Pulling a device from his pocket, the leader grinned again. "Let's play a game."
Wiping blood off of his uniform, the leader motioned for two Mogadorians to take away the mutilated body of the scout. It had been great fun killing him, oh yes. But it would be better when he got his hands on the Lorien Six. Yes, their deaths would please him very much. But wait, what was this? The leader picked up the photograph the scout had brought. There was Number Four, and the she-devil, Number Six. But who was the other one? The leader squinted at the picture. Slowly, his lips split apart into the most gleeful smile of all. It was him. The leader grabbed another photograph he kept on him at all times. It was one of a boy and a man, a son and a father. Yes! The boy was the same in both pictures. What wouldn't a father do for his son, thought the leader. I can finally draw him out. The leader shook his head back and roared with laughter, frightening the guards on duty. Slowly he composed himself, and looked out the window into the setting sun.
I've got you now Malcolm. I know your weakness, and I shall seize it. You will come to us . . . or suffer the consequences.
