Chapter Eight! This one was...not fun. It was difficult and frustrating and I kept messing up. But now it's done, and I couldn't be happier!
She was there. Sitting in that hole, trapped inside a body controlled by a parasite. Melanie. My love.
"Mel?"
There was no answer, just more sobbing from the parasite, the alien who was inexplicably, terribly, wounded by what it had done. By what the human inside its head had done.
Melanie had hit me. Why had she hit me as I kissed her? I was kissing her!
I had been...experimenting. Trying to get an answer from...it.
"You know that was for you, Mel. You know that. Not for h—it. You know I wasn't kissing it."
Louder sobs. Why was it so upset? Yes, its body had hit me, but it hadn't done it. Mel had, and it knew that. Did it think I was hurt?
Never mind. Melanie was there. How else would I have been punched by this too-gentle alien? "If you're in there, Mel...I love you. Even if you're not there, even if you can't hear me, I love you." It felt so good to say those words, even if the only person who heard them was a parasite.
The parasite had quieted some, had stopped its ragged, gasping sobs. I couldn't even hear it breathing now. It was ignoring me.
I knew enough of—and the parasite knew to imitate—female behavior. Silence meant she needed time alone. She and Mel. Mel and it. The parasite and the tenant in its head.
I could give them space. Quietly—with my Indian tread—I left the storage corridor, left behind Melanie's body entangled in boxes.
No sooner than I had turned the corner did I start to doubt. The parasite inside Mel hadn't told me this explicably, yet it had made me believe that Mel was there. Given its tight-lipped nature, such wordless displays of the truths it wanted us to believe seemed in character. It stayed quiet, performing with its body.
Yet...when I'd heard it with others—with Ian in the tunnel, with everyone in the kitchen that first night, with Jamie—it talked just fine. Maybe it knew words wouldn't be enough for me.
But its face...it had looked so shocked. No one was that good an actor.
When I reached the big garden, unable to sift through my thoughts once again, I saw that Ian had prepared a welcoming party for me. He was glowering at me. Jeb, one hand on the gun on his belt, watched me approach with narrow eyes. Jamie's eyes were wide, searching.
"Where is she?" Ian demanded.
"She's fine," I told them all wearily. "She just wanted to be alone. I think."
"Can I go see her?" Jamie asked. "Where is she?"
"At the hole," I started, before Jeb broke in.
"No, kid, leave her alone. She needs space sometimes."
Jamie looked up at me. "Is she okay? Jared? What'd she say?"
"Well, she—" I half-chuckled as realized the parasite hadn't ever said a single word to me. "Not much. Mel was the one to—"
"Mel?" Jamie repeated incredulously. "You mean you...believe her?"
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to make the kid happy, and to accept something that I so wanted to be true. "I...sort of." The part of me still latched on to Mel wanted to believe that she could be there, that she could've broken out and hit me. But the rational part of me argued that it was too good to be true. That the parasite was still lying somehow.
A sudden, alarming thought struck me. "Jeb...Kyle's been sleeping all day. He could be looking for...her, and she's alone."
"I got it," Jeb said, starting toward the sleeping halls. "I'll take care of 'im."
Jamie started off as well, strolling a little too casually back the way I'd come.
"Jamie," Jeb said without turning around. "Leave her be."
The kid's shoulders slumped. Obviously he'd been trying to sneak off to see Melanie's body. "I will," he mumbled, casting a longing glance back at me, then continuing on his way.
It must have almost been dinner time, from the orange light coming through the ceiling. I was starving. But as I started toward the dining hall, Ian stepped closer to me. Earlier he had looked as exhausted as I felt, but now he looked wide awake. And angry. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl. "Did you hurt her? Wanda?"
"No," I emphasized, aggravated. "What's it to you, anyway?"
"I—" he started, then broke off. He must have realized it should mean nothing to him.
I gave him a long, hard glare. "Don't get too involved. This is my problem."
"Oh, sure," Ian said acerbically. "You're gone for a few weeks, and no one even looks at her funny anymore. You come back...she has to fear for her life again."
"Your point?"
He jabbed a finger at me. "She's one of us now. Don't make things difficult for her."
She's one of us? Whether she had a human in her head or not, she was not to be I was too tired to argue. "Whatever you say, O'Shea." He was getting on my nerves. He was far too attached to Melanie's body. Almost possessive. And now that Melanie could be in there...he needed to get unattached. If Melanie was in there, I'd take care of her. If she wasn't...the parasite needed a different kind of taking care of.
I grabbed some dinner—it was delicious red meat—and headed to bed early. This time as I passed Kyle and Ian's room, I heard much softer snores from the other brother. Kyle wasn't there; hopefully Jeb was laying down the law for him. He would be furious with me, I realized with a jolt of amusement, for turning traitor once again.
Before I reached my room, I heard the shuffling of someone slowly coming down the dark tunnel. A few seconds' observation revealed it was Walter. The old man, the oldest person here, was laboring away from his sleeping space with slow, uneven steps.
"You okay there?" I asked him.
"Fine," he huffed, a little out of breath. He seemed more tired than usual. Was his sickness getting worse? "I was on my way to—to the kitchen, but I think—I think I might have broken my wrist."
"We need to get you to Doc's," I said, examining the arm he was cradling in the dim light. He nodded, still panting. I took his good arm and slung it carefully over my shoulders, taking some of his weight.
After a minute of walking in silence, he asked me, "Wanda, the—the alien who's here, she's in your woman's body?"
I winced at these words. Even if Melanie was still alive, she was trapped inside with the parasite who controlled her body's every move. "Yeah."
He continued in a thoughtful tone. "My wife was taken. It's been years, but I still think about her. Can't—can't help but think that...if she were to come back...I'd want to keep her."
Yes, I wanted to keep Melanie. I wanted to know that she was in there, and I wanted her to stay with me. Except...if Melanie was there, she was the passenger. Someone else was driving.
When I didn't answer him, Walter kept talking. "Wanda's a sweet girl, Jared. I wouldn't be too hard on her. She's hard enough on herse—"
I heard a sickening crack as he took a step and buckled.
"Whoa there, Walter—"
...
The old man had cancer. I carried him the rest of the way to the hospital, where he described his symptoms to Doc. Doc could barely get the words out to tell him, his face was so pained, so aggrieved that he was going to lose Walter, that he had no means to save him.
Walter took it quite well, almost cheerfully, except that his face was twisted with real, tangible pain. He had broken his wrist, as well as his leg. His bones were so weak, so fragile, that just lying down on a cot snapped a rib.
Doc couldn't do anything to cure Walter or to help ease his pain, and this tortured him. The brandy he hadn't already drunk he began to give to the old man. Soon Walter was as inebriated as Doc had been, staring into space and mumbling incoherently. He gave an occasional moan, and I hoped the spirits were at least dulling his senses.
Despite my exhaustion, I stayed with Doc for a few more hours. Leaving him alone with Walt and his suffering seemed too cruel. Sharon came in around normal bedtime, but of course she didn't stay. If someone was hurting, she was gone.
Sometime during the night, Jeb came in, obviously having heard about Walter. I spoke little to him, due to my sour, preoccupied mood, but I ascertained that he had dealt with Kyle. Jeb had gotten him to promise to leave the parasite alone. If he wouldn't do that, his alternative was to leave the caves, and there was no way he'd do that.
Walter looked so pitiful, Doc so miserable, that I couldn't help it. I needed to get away again...though for different reasons. I volunteered to go outside and find some medicine for Walter.
This time, though, I went alone. I didn't need Kyle or anyone convincing me again that the parasite was evil. I wanted to decide that.
The raid was uneventful. And unsuccessful. I drove into California, moving constantly, allowing myself very little sleep, searching isolated houses when the inhabiting parasites were out.
My raid routine was methodical. I waited at least half an hour, then went in. Looked first in the bathroom cabinets, then in the kitchen cupboards. Searched the closets, the back corners of every shelf. There actually was a possibility of medications being in these less likely places—I knew from experience that human addicts hid drugs everywhere in their houses. Their addictions did nothing to help them in the end, of course, but their stashes were beyond helpful to us.
I watched the parasites more closely this time I was out. They all led normal lives, such human lives. Couples went to their jobs and came home, happy to see each other and spend time together. They could be kind. They seemed to be able to love. They seemed to be good...good people, except in their attitude toward humans. Because they were parasites. They'd stolen our planet.
How could they really be good? If they were willing to do that?
I kept surveillance on one particular house outside of San Diego for a whole afternoon. These parasites had a child, a boy's body around eight or nine years old. The father's body spent a good hour and a half kicking a soccer ball around the yard with the boy.
Watching the child made this idyllic scene incredibly creepy. The boy's body was younger than Jamie, yet it acted so...mature. Instead of giving his father a high-five for playing well, the boy shook his hand and thanked him politely. When the mother's body called them both inside to eat, the boy volunteered to shower before dinner, and assured his parents he'd be out in time to help set the table.
Of course, the boy wasn't really nine years old. The thing controlling the young body was a parasite just like the boy's parents. The worm inside simply behaved like a son because of the body it was in. Not playing a part, but more...just continuing the role of its body. From the age of the child, the body had probably never had an aware human conscience inside it—just a baby who had now been erased.
But Melanie...could she still be there? Her mind had been alive and aware for twenty years before she was captured—and she knew what was going to happen when she was caught. Could she have not been...erased?
Was the parasite—Wanda—just continuing Melanie's role in our family? Or...could Mel still be there?
The happy, creepy family loaded overnight bags in their car after they ate. From the distant snatches of conversation, I surmised they were going to visit a relative of their bodies. It was so weird how they all still acted like family.
My search of that house turned up nothing, as I was half-expecting now. No one had kept anything in their medicine cabinets, no type of painkillers at all, not morphine, not even Ibuprofen. But on my way out, I scooped up the little boy's soccer ball from the yard. We hadn't had a ball to play with since Kyle had quite literally kicked a hole in the one they'd stolen previously.
Melanie used to be good at soccer.
That house was my last before I switched directions and headed back to the caves. I couldn't be out here indefinitely.
Along the way, I made sporadic stops—in different towns than before—and searched some more, unwilling to give up for Walter. Right before I crossed the Arizona border, I visited an upscale neighborhood and struck gold in the darkened house on the block.
Miracle of miracles, there was a small paper bag filled with morphine hidden in the stairwell. This house had probably belonged to a closet addict before the invasion. The parasites who resided in this house had most likely never known it was here.
But there wasn't much. And Walter's illness was terminal—this medicine couldn't just be used to tide him over past the worst. What would we do with it?
The drive back to the caves took me less than a day. Although I was still reluctant to think about how we would use the medicine, I was eager to get back to Doc and Walter, who had surely gotten worse.
However, the parasites had other plans.
I was running late, but I wanted to get back to the caves before morning. I sped down the highway to reach the turnoff in the desert before the stars disappeared.
I drove the Jeep to the cave we used as a garage and parked it in between the windowless white van and the huge moving van we used for big raids. Before I ducked out into the pre-dawn desert with my haul, I noticed a humming. Very low and faint, but growing in volume steadily.
The humming turning into a thrumming, a steady beat of...blades. Helicopter blades.
Someone had a helicopter out in the desert. And the only reason someone would be flying a helicopter around the desert...
Seekers. Looking for us. Here.
What had our parasite done?
...
The helicopter circled the desert all day. I sat in the cave, itching to leave and stewing at the parasite I'd so stupidly let live.
The parasite in Mel's body had to be connected to this Seeker search somehow. There was no other reason they would be looking for us here.
Had it somehow gotten the Seekers to come out here? But there was no way they could have actually made contact, was there?
Maybe it was the Seeker they'd seen earlier, the one in black, the one that Melanie's parasite had acted so frightened of.
Was it still just looking for Mel? Mel's body? If the parasite realized who was in the helicopter...would it seize the chance to betray us?
If it was planning anything devious, hopefully everyone I'd left behind could keep it under control.
Just because Melanie might have been alive inside her body, I realized, didn't mean the parasite inside her body was on our side. It could have been influenced by Melanie to come out here, and then when we captured it, it could have come to its senses, could have started hating us. It had probably been waiting for a chance to escape all along. Just like I'd thought. Why had I stopped thinking that?
I was on pins and needles all day, but the helicopter never landed or seemed to get too close to us. It ran sweeps across the desert, the deafening sounds of the blades diminishing to a hum and crescendoing back to a roar. Each time the noise returned caused a wave of dread in me. Would they all be captured? Jeb, Doc, Walter, Jamie...
Finally the sky began to dim, and when the Seekers in the helicopter couldn't see anymore, the ominous sounds dwindled into a continual, blissful silence.
I was leaning back in the seat of the Jeep, like how I'd slept for the past two days. I wanted to wait another hour or so, to be completely sure the Seekers were gone...
The next thing I knew, the sky was dark and the dashboard clock read 4:40. I had slept through the night.
Enraged with myself for losing so much time—who knew what Walter was going through—I sprinted through the desert, reaching the caves in a record forty-five minutes. I wanted to drive the Jeep, but I didn't think such a blatant display of life was wise less than twenty-four hours after Seekers had swept the area.
I used the south entrance to get to Doc and Walter quickly. Before I even reached the big cave, I could hear Walter moaning, whimpering, even letting out soft screams. Doc must have run out of brandy by now, and poor Walt was probably wishing for death—if he was lucid enough to.
The morphine would probably serve best as a euthanasiast.
Walter's whimpering was continuous, unbroken, when I crawled into Doc's hospital. But it was punctuated by a different voice. One that had become steadily more unwelcome and confusing to me.
Melanie. The parasite. Both of them. Sitting on a cot next to Walter, wiping his sweaty forehead, holding his hand. Muttering reassurances. "Shh. Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here. Shh, it's okay."
I stood frozen, transfixed, watching the parasite comfort a human. Of all the people to come visit Walter. I only hoped it hadn't seen me crawl in from the outside.
Why was it there?
Doc was snoring lightly. It didn't notice me. There was no one watching it. No one to perform for. It sounded...like it was genuinely sympathetic toward Walter. Why would it care that he was in pain?
Watching the old man suffer was tormenting me, and I'd only just arrived. Doc had succumbed to exhaustion staying with him. How long had she been there? All night? Longer?
What was it doing?
I could help Walter. Help him stop hurting. "Doc. Doc, wake up," I said quietly. Calmly. I didn't take my eyes off the parasite, and when it heard me speak, it started so violently that its hold on Walter's hand was broken. It spun to look at me, and I worked to keep my face devoid of emotion. Melanie.
"Gladdie! Don't leave! Don't!" Walter cried. His frail voice was shrill with pain and panic.
Gladdie? Wasn't that Walter's wife's name?
Melanie's body whirled back around to the dying man, murmuring reassurances again. "I'm here, I won't leave. I won't, I promise."
"What's that about?" I inquired of Doc in a low voice. I was truly curious. What had this centipede done to make Walter think she was his long-lost wife?
"She's the best painkiller I've been able to find," Doc said. His face was creased with the reverberations of Walter's suffering. The poor man couldn't bear to see someone hurting and not be able to fix it.
Well, I could fix it. Shaking myself out of my stunned silence, I told him, "Well, I've found you something better than a tame Seeker." I couldn't resist goading it. Of course not. Who was to say that it wasn't a Seeker? I sure wouldn't vouch for it now.
It didn't acknowledge my words. Doc, though, responded excitedly. "You found something!"
I held up my treasure. "Morphine. There's not much. I would've gotten here sooner if the Seeker hadn't pinned me down out there."
Doc ripped open the paper bag, exclaiming, "Jared, you're the miracle man!" He took a small syringe, filled it up. That was already nearly a quarter of what I'd brought.
"Uh, Doc, there really isn't enough for that."
Doc had already injected the medicine into Walter, and the old man had relaxed instantly. "Enough for what? I'm not going to save this for a rainy day, Jared. I'm sure we'll wish we had it again, and too soon, but I'm not going to let Walter scream in agony while I have a way to help him!"
He didn't understand. Sometimes he was too compassionate for practicality. "That's...not what I meant. There's enough to stop the pain for three or four days, that's all. If you give it to him in doses."
"Ah," Doc whispered. His eyes filled with tears as he understood. He hated seeing Walt suffer, but I knew he'd want to do anything but kill the old man. The realization that that was the best course devastated him.
"You can't save him. You can only save him pain, Doc." I felt terrible as I said the words. We'd lost so much of our world, of our species, and now we were killing off our own.
"I know. You're right." He was mourning it already; I could see it in his eyes.
I didn't want to be right. I hated this. Apparently I wasn't the only one, because a second later, I heard Melanie's gasp. Of realization, shock, denial...pain.
The parasite leaned over Walter's head, sniffling slightly, its crying a high, sustained whimper. It was...mourning. Broken. Defenseless. Devastated.
Like Doc. It was hurting so much it looked like Doc.
This wasn't mandatory for the parasite. It had nothing to gain from this show of sadness and affection. That mixture was painful—not to mention difficult—to act out. Was it going into overkill mode just to convince me?
It didn't seem to be aware of me as it grieved Walt's imminent death. Wasn't watching for my reaction. Its behavior seemed...natural.
"Wanda?" Doc inquired of her. She shook her head.
I wanted to go to her, to see if she was all right—she was so sad, so heartbroken...
Wow. I was feeling sympathy for her. Even though, hours, minutes earlier, I'd thought it would have brought the Seeker here. Had my fears been completely unfounded? Now it was showing affection for us humans here. Affection.
It had...surprised me with its performance. But it would be just like a parasite to use a helpless, dying old man to further its scheme.
I had just never seen a parasite who could do all that. Be so terrified when it needed to be. Speak with just the right amount of hesitation. Cry on cue. Act like it cared. And also act like it was a bad liar. How could this unique parasite be the one to be inside Melanie?
If Melanie was there, surely she would be trying to stop the parasite from tricking us.
Unless she knew its intentions were good.
Doc's kind voice interrupted my reflection. "I think you've been here too long. You should take a break." He moved over to it, touching its shoulder lightly in comfort. What I'd wanted to do.
It shook its head again in answer. It did not want to leave. "You're worn out. Go clean up, stretch your legs, eat something," he urged.
"Will Walter be here when I get back?" it asked softly, anguish evident in its voice. Was it real?
Melanie's voice. Melanie. Was Melanie feeling this pain too?
"Do you want that?"
"I'd like a chance to say goodbye. He's my friend."
Was that what it was feeling? Friendship, sympathy? Humanity?
It wasn't human, though. It was a parasite. A hand in the puppet of a human body. My human love, in this case. And the bodies closest to us had always been the ones used to manipulate us.
But this one just seemed different. Mel was there, wasn't she? The parasite inside her couldn't be evil. How could it be? It was as altruistic as any human—even more than most. It equaled Doc in compassion. Or could appear to.
Had it come here with good intentions? Trying to do a good thing? It must not have realized it wasn't doing me a favor.
Doc touched Melanie's arm again. "I know, Wanda, I know. Me too. I'm in no hurry. You get some air and then come back. Walter will be sleeping for a while."
It nodded and finally released Walter, walking away with stiff steps on obviously numb legs.
I never took my eyes off that body. How complex a creature it had to be, to be an alien by essence, taking over a human body, and still carrying a human around in it. How confusing the situation must be. I would have felt sorry for it, if I was more objective about this body.
I felt sorrier for the human.
Melanie.
As if in response to my thought, it turned to steal a glance at me before it turned the corner. Its silver eyes, still full of tears, shone dimly in the morning light.
Ouch. I felt the pang when our eyes met, but didn't let it show on my face. I wouldn't let it see how much its presence disturbed me, muddled my thoughts, twisted them up with memories so that I couldn't remember who this person was. Couldn't discern this unnaturally kind parasite with the human woman I had loved so much. They were not the same person.
I wanted Melanie back. And I could never have her.
Melanie's body turned quickly and made its way out of the hospital. Away from the dying old man, away from my dark thoughts.
Doc slumped against the desk once the parasite had left. He stared at Walter, sleeping peacefully, then glanced at me again, gratitude written on his face.
"You don't have to thank me," I told him, before he could say it. "It was my pleasure." More or less. Helping Doc and Walter was pleasure enough.
"I'm so glad Wanda left," he said, bringing up the topic I'd thought we could avoid, now that she was gone. "It was hurting her to be here, even though she'd never admit it."
"How long was she—it—here?"
"Almost two days. He mistook her for Gladys, and she...she couldn't bring herself to leave him."
"Wow," I murmured. Had I really misjudged the parasite's character that badly? Would it have really cared enough about Walter, a human, to stay with him and his pain that long? While I was holed up outside, hating it, abusing it in my mind?
Doc looked at me tiredly. He searched my face, and I was careful to not let my expression give anything away. What I was thinking about the parasite. The turmoil Melanie's disputable half-existence caused me. How much pain I was in.
We sat in silence for a while. Doc was watching Walter sleep. Though my eyes were turned in the same direction, I barely saw the old man. I was still preoccupied by the strange parasite who was occupying Melanie's body.
What was it doing? How long was this stint going to last? The parasite couldn't wait for the rest of its life to turn us in.
I didn't get it. Either the parasite had no plan in place at all, or its schemes were so vast that none of us could see the ends of its confusing actions.
If it had planned all this out, it would have had to leave a lot of things up to chance, too many to make the plan a good one. But if it had no plan...was it just stupid enough to think it could waltz in here and hand us over to Seekers? Or...did it really want to be here? To stay with us?
That was beyond weird. Too weird, too...alien to be true.
I focused again on the sleeping old man in front of me. How long until he awoke? How long until we had to kill him?
As much as I wanted to concentrate on Walter's piteous situation, my mind kept wandering back to Melanie. Her errant body.
The dual feeling of hatred and protectiveness that I'd felt for it since it had arrived had somehow melted away. Well, not away, but more had turned into something...more confusing. A mixture of resentment and distrust, smashed up with a reluctant admiration of its resilience, all topped off with my lingering feelings for Mel.
I was glad of the change, I supposed. Hating Melanie's body had been very taxing, even though I hadn't realized it. Not that my feelings toward it now were easier to bear; I didn't understand the alien at all. I hated not understanding something.
The parasite inside Melanie seemed to have feelings of its own. Whenever I'd seen it with Jamie, it had seemed...to care for him. I had thought that was a ploy to gain his trust, and that still seemed like the most likely option.
Yet it had defended Jamie. Put itself between me and the kid. Opting for me to hurt it rather than him. A spy, an infiltrator, would stay as far away from the action as possible. But it had thrust itself right into the thick of our fight—even though I never would've fought Jamie—because it knew it was the source of conflict.
It had done the same thing to me. That first night. With Kyle. Thrust itself right into the action, saying, "Leave him alone, I'm what you want." Something like that.
At least it knew that it didn't deserve to be here. That it shouldn't be in our little human world. How could it be...conflicted about intruding here? It wanted to turn us in, didn't it? Unless...
Unless what Jamie said was true. That it...loved us.
Jamie was a naturally affectionate person. Having been on the run since he was six years old, he now latched securely onto anyone who showed him kindness. That would've been fine, except now the one showing him kindness was...a parasite. Someone dangerous. He couldn't afford to trust one of them, couldn't afford to believe that it had human feelings.
I wasn't so trusting, so accepting. And danger of treachery aside, the parasite was in Mel's body, was keeping me from Mel, if she was in there. I didn't want to like it, nor did I have much reason to. It had hurt me by coming here, was still hurting me. Teasing me, tantalizing me with Melanie.
Footsteps echoed quietly down the hall. Doc and I didn't look up until the parasite entered the room again...in Ian's arms.
Melanie's body looked like it had taken a beating. Its face was bleeding again, on the same side that had been scarred from my attack. Blood trickled down its nose onto its lips, too, and its knees were bloody as well. It was only wearing one shoe.
Ian's face was set. No, it was angry. There was no other way to describe his expression. Something had ticked him off good. And whatever it was had to do with the parasite he carried in his arms.
He set it down on a cot gently, and it gasped quietly in pain. I stared at it, keeping my face blank. I didn't want it to know that I was...concerned about it. Concerned about Melanie.
"What now?" Doc asked, sounding angry too. Angry and exasperated that this of all members of the community would have to get hurt the most.
What had happened to it? How had it injured itself so extensively?
It started to say, "The floor—" but Ian started to speak too: "Kyle—" They each cut off when they heard the other speak.
Kyle? What had Kyle done?
Had he hurt it this way? Tried to do something to it, even after Jeb had told him to leave it alone?
Why had Ian started to say that, not the parasite?
Ian rolled his eyes down at the parasite and began speaking again. With one hand, he was touching its forehead, almost without thinking about it. "The floor crumbled by the first river hole. Kyle fell back and cracked his head on a rock. Wanda saved his worthless life. She says she fell too, when the floor gave." He paused, giving Doc a loaded stare.
I understood what he was trying to say. What the parasite wasn't saying. Kyle had been in the bathing room with it. Alone, by the sound of Ian's account. There was no reason Kyle would be alone with the parasite unless...
Unless he was trying to kill it. Had he tried to drown it? Or...throw her in the boiling river?
I suppressed the shudder that rocked my body. Of horror. And...rage.
Ian was listing all of the parasite's injuries out for Doc. "Something bashed the back of her head pretty good. Her nose is bleeding but not broken, I don't think. She's got some damage to the muscle here—" and he touched its leg. That was why he'd been carrying it. It couldn't walk.
I was angry at Kyle now. How had he hurt her in all those ways?
Ian still wasn't finished. "Knees sliced up pretty good, got her face again, but I think maybe I did that, trying to pull Kyle out of the hole." Then he muttered, "Shouldn't have bothered."
The parasite hadn't said a word this whole time. Hadn't contradicted anything Ian had said. Of course, he hadn't actually said that Kyle had caused all those injuries. Why didn't it tell us that? If he'd hurt it, surely it would want someone to know.
Then again, Ian had been the first to try to kill it. And now it ran all over the place with him like that had never happened. It didn't hate me, even though I'd hurt it, wanted to kill it. Being so forgiving would help project its good character.
It wasn't acting mad at Kyle at all, but Ian certainly was. Doc, as mild-tempered as he was, was at least frustrated that Kyle couldn't obey simple orders. And I...I was mad. Kyle had tried to kill Melanie.
The other brother had now taken his crack at Mel's body. Tried to get rid of it.
I wondered why I was angrier at Kyle than I had been at Ian. Perhaps it had been the panic of that first moment that was absent now, letting the realizations and implications sink in. Perhaps it was because Kyle was much more vengeful than his brother. Killing it had probably been Kyle's idea that first time anyway.
But it wasn't just that. It was what I knew about the parasite now. Now there was...a possibility that this wasn't just an alien in a human's body. Melanie was there too—at least, that was what I wanted. So Kyle had tried to kill both of them. Would have, if the floor hadn't buckled.
Doc was gently feeling the parasite's injuries, on its leg, its scraped-up knees. "Anything else?" he inquired, his hand feeling her side.
It gasped, its hand going involuntarily to where Doc was touching. Doc pulled up its shirt.
I couldn't contain my gasp of surprise. Closer to her, Ian echoed me. Her rib cage was bruised. The purple splotch, evidence of some brutal impact, was the size of her hand. The size of a grown man's fist.
"Let me guess," Ian said, his voice tight and furious. "You fell on a rock."
"Good guess."
That was probably the excuse it had given him for its other injuries. But this one could not be explained like that. Kyle had punched her.
"Might have broken a rib, not sure," Doc mused, fingers probing the huge bruise. A whimper escaped through its lips, despite obvious efforts to stay quiet.
"I wish I could give you something for the pain," Doc said to it. He was, again, suffering to see someone hurting.
"Don't worry about that, Doc. I'm okay," it said, slightly breathless. It looked over at the old man lying prone on the other cot, still snoring. "How's Walter? Did he wake up at all?"
After what it had just gone through, it was still more worried about Walter, a human dying of cancer, than itself.
A liar wouldn't do that.
Doc reassured it. "No, it will take him some time to sleep that dose off." He took its arm, testing its joint.
"I'm okay," it said.
It had been assaulted, had saved the man who had just tried to murder it, and it couldn't walk. And it still said it was okay.
"You will be," Doc promised. "You'll just have to rest for a while. I'll keep an eye on you."
It was staying here, in the hospital. Where it had suffered with Walter, where so many others of its kind had met their deaths. I was glad I hadn't brought any back this time. The risk of keeping prisoners when I was alone was too great.
Doc examined its freshly scraped cheek. The gash on its face hadn't healed very prettily in the first place, and now the wound was open and raw again.
"Not here," Ian murmured. I whipped my head around to glare at him. Had he guessed what I'd been thinking? Of course I hadn't brought any other parasites back. I knew the parasite in Mel would never trust us again if it saw that. Whatever tenuous peace existed with it being here would be broken in an instant. It would think we'd do that to it, too. It would want to escape. I wasn't foolish enough to risk that.
But Ian elaborated in a safer direction. "They're bringing Kyle. I'm not having them in the same room."
"Probably wise," Doc agreed.
I concurred too. Kyle would probably be awake when he came in to be checked out, and he wouldn't be happy to see the parasite being treated.
I wouldn't be happy to see him, either.
"I'll get a place ready for her," Ian said. "I'll need you to keep Kyle here until...until we decide what to do with him."
What was there to decide? What would happen when Kyle's murder attempt was made known? Yes, he'd committed an act of violence, but doubtless many would think he'd done the right thing. Some would even be angry that he'd failed. Only a select few would be bothered by it at all.
"All right. I'll tie him down, if you want," Doc offered.
"If you have to," Ian said. "Is it okay to move her?" His fingers were resting on Melanie's lips, keeping the parasite quiet, or comforted, or something. It bothered me. Why was he the one touching it? That was Mel, too, who'd almost been killed. Melanie was mine.
"No," the parasite mumbled through Ian's hand. "Walter. I want to be here for Walter."
"You've saved all the lives you can today, Wanda," Ian said. His voice was husky. Of course he too understood Walter would die soon. Mel's parasite didn't seem to be accepting it as easily, though.
"I want to say...to say good—goodbye." Why was it so...affectionate like that?
Ian looked at me. "Can I trust you?"
Was he really asking that? Did he think I would try to kill it, once only Doc was there to protect it? Didn't he know that I knew? About Melanie?
Before I could retort, he continued, "I don't want to leave her here unprotected while I find her a safe place. I don't know if Kyle will be conscious when he arrives. If Jeb shoots him, it will upset her. But you and Doc should be able to handle him. I don't want Doc to be on his own and force Jeb's hand."
"Doc won't be on his own," I promised, my anger showing despite my fierce control. Of course I would protect Melanie's body from Kyle. I always had.
"She's been through a lot in the past couple of days," Ian reminded me. "Remember that."
I nodded. Mel had been through a lot. Walter's ordeal. Kyle's murder attempt. Even if the parasite wasn't admitting anything, it had seen as much pain as Doc had. And Doc had been affected. Mel, too, of course.
"I'll be here," Doc said.
"Okay," Ian said. He stooped over, looking straight in Melanie's—the parasite's—eyes. "I'll be back soon. Don't be afraid."
"I'm not," it said. It almost sounded surprised at the notion.
But what happened next surprised me.
Ian touched his lips to Melanie's forehead.
He kissed the parasite.
I couldn't help myself. I gasped, feeling my jaw drop. The parasite's mouth was open too, as it watched Ian run from the room, probably giddy with triumph.
So not only was Ian fiercely dedicated to protecting this transparently truthful creature...he was attached to it. Just like I'd thought before. Maybe even had feelings for it.
"Well," Doc said. He was as shocked as I was. I heard his unspoken "this is awkward."
How had Ian gone from hating this parasite, wanting to murder it, to being its protector? Being so dedicated to its safety, being an ardent guardian who might actually...feel something for it?
I didn't know which was more confusing, a parasite mimicking Mel's feelings for me, a human, or a human unwittingly developing feelings for one of them.
Maybe that wasn't so strange. If the parasite wasn't in Mel's body, wasn't a parasite...maybe I could understand. But it was a parasite. As gentle, as kind as it was, it wasn't human.
Melanie was, though. If she was there, Ian wouldn't touch her. He couldn't.
I put these complicated thoughts out of my mind. Right now, in her injured body, Mel was hurt. Probably in pain. "Doc—" I began to ask him to help her somehow, but then Jeb entered the hospital, carrying an unconscious Kyle. He, Wes, Andy, and Aaron struggled to hold him up.
"Stars, but he's heavy."
Melanie was momentarily forgotten as Doc and I helped them ease Kyle onto a cot. He was still knocked out. How hard had he hit his head? Would there be any permanent damage? Vaguely, in a part of my head so removed from reality that this notion seemed plausible, I wondered if the impact had knocked some rationality into his head. Caution. Restraint. Sense. Something.
Why had the parasite saved him? If he had been trying to kill it, why wouldn't it just...let him fall? Oops, he's gone. Whew.
"How long has he been out, Wanda?" Doc asked the parasite. He leaned over Kyle, looking in his pupils.
"Um...as long as I've been here, the ten minutes or so it took Ian to carry me here, and then maybe five minutes before that?"
"At least twenty minutes, would you say?"
"Yes. Close to that."
Kyle groaned and coughed suddenly, and I saw that Jeb was pouring water in his face.
"Jeb!" Doc protested.
I had to hide a chuckle. It was pretty funny. Kyle's face screwed up, trying to escape the trickles of water. He spluttered, even stuck his tongue out. "What happened? Where did it go?"
It. The parasite. He was searching for it. I wondered what he remembered, what he would reveal. Would he confess what he'd done? Or would he deny it? Take advantage of the parasite's inexplicable silence?
The parasite's hands tightened into fists. Of course it was frightened. The man who was waking up had just tried to kill it, hadn't he? It was curling up, tensing for some kind of confrontation.
I moved closer to it again, standing between it and Kyle. "S'okay, you're safe. Don't be afraid." I didn't turn around, didn't look down. I wanted to protect Melanie more than it.
Kyle moaned, leaning forward to feel the back of his head. His gaze met mine, and his countenance darkened. He was angry with me again.
That was fine.
Then he saw the parasite lying on the cot behind me. "Aw, man! It didn't fall!"
Okay, whew! That's another chapter I'm glad to be done with. I literally had to rewrite half the chapter because I was on the wrong thread with the characters' thoughts. Urgh.
As always, let me know what you think, or if you have a comment—especially if it's critical! And...
Thanks for reading KylerM.
