Chapter 9

She was on fire. She felt it burning in her chest, engulfing her from the inside. This rage. She let the anger swallow her, otherwise all she would be able to feel was fear. Fear of what had happened to her brothers, of where that liar had taken them.

Grace knew she shouldn't have trusted him. A sanctuary was too good to be true. She should have trusted her gut. They had a good thing at the school – she had her family again – and now Clayton had taken that away from her.

Now she had to get it back.

After a quick stop at the school, Grace, Dai, and Tom headed out on the bikes again to look for Clayton and the 2nd Mass children. This time Grace had her own bike, riding beside her father, searching frantically. Tom hadn't even tried to refuse her help this time – maybe he had realised he needed it. They were out until morning, until the sun came up and illuminated the forest around them. Grace's eyes were starting to hurt from how hard she was scanning the roads, the woods in the distance. No sign of anyone.

It was by some miracle, a young boy resembling her little brother came scrambling up the road at great speed. Ben. It was him. Tom dismounted from his bike and ran up to greet him, grabbing him as if he were afraid to let him go again.

"Ben! Where's Hal and Matt?"

Ben pointed behind him, still panting. He looked afraid. "They're with the others, but they don't know Clayton's coming!"

"What do you mean?" asked Grace, getting off her bike. "They're not at the sanctuary?"

"No, no, no," said Ben through quick breaths. "Mike said it wasn't safe, so we left..." Ben's face contorted, as if he were confused by something. "They...they started shooting at us!

Grace watched her father's face light up with horror. "Who was shooting at you?" asked Tom. "Clayton?"

Ben nodded. "Dad...I think Mike's dead."

"Oh, my God," said Grace. They had let this man waltz into their camp and take their loved ones away.

Ben told them everything. Clayton had made some kind of deal with the skitters. That's what Mike had said. And the deal seemed to involve the kids at the sanctuary. Grace felt sick. Ben said they were holed up in a house somewhere, and they had to find them before Clayton and his men did. Tom tried to get Grace to take her brother back to the Second Mass, but once again she had other ideas.

"My brothers are still out there – my friends – my people. I need to go with you." She got back on her bike.

"I'll take him," offered Dai. "We'll bring reinforcements."

"Hurry," Tom told him. He returned to his bike, shaking his head at Grace. "One day you're going to have to listen to your father."

The forest echoed with the sounds of bike engines. "Not today," replied Grace as they set off through the woods again.

Following Ben's instructions, they soon found the small neighbourhood where the kids were hiding. It was miles out. She could hardly believe Ben ran all this way to find them. Looking over at her dad, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Right now he just looked focused on finding Hal and Matt.

But it was too late. Clayton was already there. They found Pope in a fire fight with them, shooting from behind a tree. His leg was bleeding.

"Ah, Masons," he said, slipping off his belt and wrapping it around his shot up leg. "Pull up a chair."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Grace questioned him. She thought she had seen the back of him.

Pope rolled his eyes. "It's complicated." He tightened the belt-tourniquet and then grabbed his weapon again. "I got no tolerance for anybody who gets into bed with the skitters."

Grace and Tom took cover behind the trees. They could see Clayton and his men in the street, peering in their direction, weapons raised.

Pope explained that Hal had got himself a gun and was fighting them off. There were about seven of them out there, and Pope wanted to take them. Tom refused. Grace backed him – if they went in there guns blazing, they weren't the only ones who could get hurt.

"What are you gonna do?" said Pope, his gun still in his hand. Tom swiped the magazine from Pope's rifle.

"Stop it." He took a step back. "Grace, stay here. I'm not sure what's gonna happen."

"What are you -" but before she could finish the question, he had his hands raised and he was stepping out into the clearing, right in front of Clayton's men.

"Hold your fire! Pope's dead! Clayton, it's Tom Mason! I'm coming out!"

"Crazy bastard," Pope spat.

Grace hardly moved as she watched her father surrender. What was she supposed to do now? They took Tom's weapon and one by one the kids began to march out of the house. She saw Matt and Hal. Her heart leapt as soon as she saw them. Matt ran straight for Tom. Hal on the other hand didn't look pleased. He was too proud for defeat. But Tom knew what he was doing, Grace was sure of that. This wasn't defeat. This was survival.

Clayton took them as prisoners, marching them down the road. Grace stood back up, realising she had to follow them.

"Come on," she told Pope.

Pope just sat there.

"What are you doing? We have to rescue them."

"Sweetheart," he said condescendingly. "Does it look like I'm in a rescuing mood?" he gestured to his leg.

She clenched her jaw. She had almost forgotten who she was talking to. Pope, the guy whose gang kidnapped her, threatened to do to her what they did to Maggie. It still made her skin crawl. Not seeing Pope for a few days had made her forget the resentment she felt for him. "Screw you, Pope."

She took off down the road by foot, following Clayton back to his sanctuary. She didn't need Pope. Maybe she didn't even need her father. She could do this by herself.

The sanctuary. The farm was an isolated wooden building out in the middle of nowhere. A perfect base for a hide-out. At least that much was true. Grace had followed them here, keeping to a safe distance so as not to be seen.

She ran around the back and took up a place to the side of the building. The kids were being herded inside while her father was held at gunpoint. Her chest pounded. She had to do something. But she was outnumbered. Even if she took out a couple of them, Clayton's men would kill her before she even had a chance to save her brothers. And with that rifle aimed at her father, she was terrified that any false move would make that gun go off.

Just as she was thinking how useful it would be to have some back-up, a gunshot echoed through the clear air. There was a short yell and the sound of a body falling.

"Drop 'em!"

It was Weaver. Back-up had arrived. There was another gun shot, and then Grace peered around to see another of Clayton's men collapsing to the floor.

She could see other fighters emerge from the building, pointing their weapons at Clayton's men. They had been here, waiting. Dai had got the reinforcements as he promised. And just in time, too. The men were surrounded with their hands above their heads.

She closed her eyes, relaxed her breathing. It was over.

She was about to leave her hiding spot when she heard Clayton talking. And then, to her horror, he pulled out a gun and aimed it right at Hal.

Bang.

Clayton paused. Dropped his gun. Then he crumpled to the ground, his last breath lingering for a brief second before there was complete silence. He was dead. Everyone looked around for the shooter.

And then they all realised – it was Grace.

She lay in her cot. Eyes wide. Staring at the ceiling. She wasn't sure why, but her eyes seemed to be gleaming with a thin film of water. They wouldn't shed, but they wouldn't dry either. She had been here since Mike's funeral, just lying there quietly.

She wasn't sure what she was thinking. But the image of Clayton's dead body kept showing up in her mind, of everyone's faces when they turned to see that she had killed him.

Her first human kill.

It was bound to happen eventually. She had seen what people were capable of. Pope's gang, for instance. She had witnessed human corruption. But this? Making deals with the aliens? Exchanging children for your own freedom? The man deserved it. He deserved it.

So why did she feel like this?

Little footsteps came bounding into the room and Matt appeared by her bedside. "Dad says you're not feeling good. Are you sick?"

Grace smiled, but the pain was still clear in her eyes. "No, Matt. I'm not sick. I just need some time."

"Time for what?" the boy asked curiously, kneeling down beside her.

"I shot someone, Matt. A person. I just need time to deal."

Matt stayed quiet a beat, and then he got to his feet. "Okay. But I'm glad you shot that man. I think...I think if you hadn't, he would have hurt Hal."

The smile again. "Thanks, Matty. Why don't you give me a minute? I'll be out soon."

Her youngest brother obediently left her to it. She pulled herself up. She couldn't allow herself to take it this hard. If this was truly what humanity could do to each other, she had to be ready to do it again. She had to kill, humans and aliens alike, in order to protect her family. But God, it seemed so wrong, so terrible. Killing skitters was different. Shooting at people was different. Shooting someone, point blank – someone who just a year ago could have been one of her neighbours, teachers, even friends. She hadn't prepared herself for that.

But this was war, and this is what it did to people. And she was a soldier. She needed to accept it. She needed to accept that this was humanity now. She remembered Hal's words after Pope's gang grabbed her. She had feared she had caught a glimpse of what humans were capable of now. Hal had told her she couldn't stop it. Humans had always been this way. But there was bad and there was good.

You just had to pick a side.

After lunch, Grace took a walk around the school for some fresh air. There was a different kind of excitement today. Colonel Porter was back and her father was getting him up to speed with everything. Porter had some news of his own. Tom had told her at lunch that the colonel was concerned about the alien structures being built in the city. They were planning a mission for tomorrow to check it out. Grace could come – if she was feeling up to it. Grace assured him that she was fine, and of course she would be going with them.

"You know if anything's bothering you about what happened with Clayton, you can talk to me," Tom had said to her with that familiar tone of fatherly concern. It made her smile. It seemed like after the invasion happened, she heard that same concerned voice more and more.

Perhaps she should have opened up about it, but she shrugged it off. "It's okay. If I didn't do it, you would have, right?"

Tom didn't say anything, but she knew he agreed. He would have done anything to make sure Hal – or any of his children – were safe.

Outside, she passed civilians in their groups. Kids playing. Adults working. She saw Ben playing with Jimmy's dog, Nemo. He had a tennis ball in his hand and was throwing it to the dog and laughing. Good, thought Grace. She was glad he was happy. Even after everything he had been through, he was still smiling.

"Hey," she said.

Ben turned to look at her and smiled warmly. "Hey, Grace. What's up? I haven't seen you for a while."

"Yeah, I've been...kind of tired. You know?"

He nodded, glancing down. "Yeah." By the look of him, he understood that it was more than just fatigue that was bothering her. Nemo bounded up to him, the ball in his mouth. Ben took it and threw it again. "Fetch, boy!" Nemo flipped round, panting happily, and ran as fast as his four legs could take him.

"Jimmy let you look after Nemo?" asked Grace.

"Oh. Yeah. Jimmy and I have been kind of hanging out since the whole Clayton thing. He's pretty cool. I didn't think he liked me at first. None of them did. But I think things are getting better."

"Good. I'm glad, I think you two would be good friends," said Grace. The two were quite similar, really. They were both similar ages, both in to comic books and other nerdy things Grace couldn't relate to. And they both wanted to be seen as more than just kids. It reminded Grace of what happened right before Ben left for the sanctuary.

"I'm sorry about the other day," said Grace cautiously. She bit her lip. "I didn't mean to call you a kid. It's just you're my kid brother. You'll always be that to me. But I know you can hold your own. Really. I didn't mean to imply you couldn't."

Ben shook his head, smiling awkwardly. "Grace, it's okay. Forget about it. I know what you meant. You were just looking out for me." He paused. "It's just that...ever since I came back, everything's changed. You've changed. I come back and...you and Hal are soldiers. Dad's leading this crazy revolution and...where do I fit in? I don't want to sit on the side lines with the other kids. I'm different now too. I can do more. I can help."

Grace understood. He sounded just like Jimmy. It reminded her of when she had decided she wanted to be a fighter. Tom had resisted, as he had when Hal said the same thing. But he couldn't protect them forever. They had to learn to protect themselves. And so did Ben.

"Well, you're hanging out with Jimmy anyway, why don't you ask him to teach you a few things? I know he'd like that."

Grace didn't see the harm. Jimmy would probably enjoy teaching Ben the skills he'd learnt. It would give him a job, a responsibility. And Ben would learn some important survival skills if he ever ran in to danger again. He seemed to like the idea.

"Yeah. I'll ask him."

They smiled. Nemo's barking interrupted him. He had retrieved the ball and dropped it in Ben's hand. The boy started petting him. "Good boy. Good boy. Ready?" He straightened out and threw the ball again.

Grace stood in shock as the object soared through the air, so far that neither of them could see where it landed. Nemo took off anyway, searching for it even though he would probably never find it. She had never seen anyone throw so far.

"Good arm," Grace breathed. "So what, you grow extra muscles while you were away?" She was half-joking, half-serious. Something had changed with him. The old Ben would never have been able to pull a throw like that.

"I guess it was all that lifting they had us do," Ben shrugged. He didn't look too concerned. But Grace was.

"You feeling okay? Are you feeling...like yourself lately?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so." He stopped, thinking about it for a brief minute. "Actually no. I don't really. I feel better. Stronger."

"I've noticed. Do you even need your inhaler anymore?" After all this time, Grace hadn't thought about how long Ben had gone without using his inhaler, but now he was doing all this exercise, it seemed glaringly obvious.

"Nope. Don't need it. I feel good. I do."

Grace looked at him. He did look good. Not just happy, but healthy. But how? Something wasn't right about this. Now wasn't the time to pursue it though. Ben was different, yeah, but until they understood it fully there was nothing they could do about it. It still bothered her though. Ben may seem stronger and healthier, but there had to be a down side. Especially when aliens were involved.

That evening Grace sat by herself at dinner, pushing her boiled rice to the side of her plate. They'd taken plenty of decent food from Clayton's farm, but whoever had cooked the rice had left it on for too long, and it stuck in to unappetising clumps. At least the good thing about Pope being back was that they'd have a decent cook again. Part of her wished he had just kept on running. Away from the school. Away from the Second Mass. But maybe, in some twisted way, he was actually good for them. Grace couldn't wait to sink her teeth in to some warm, fresh bread again. And besides, she had to give him some credit – he did fight off Clayton's men single-handedly when her brothers were in trouble.

She sensed someone take up a place beside her, placing a couple of apples onto the table. "No offence, but you look terrible." Grace looked over to see Maggie sitting next to her, the hint of a smirk on her lips.

Grace looked back down at her plate, smiling at the comment. "Thanks." She felt terrible. Drained. Physically. Emotionally.

"You not hungry?"

She sighed. "Not really."

"Well, I know someone who is. Even after having the baby, she's craving apples," she said, picking up the fruit in her hands. "Good job you guys brought some fresh ones back with you."

Grace looked up. She'd almost forgotten Sarah had her baby. "How is she?"

"Mother and baby are doing fine."

"Good."

There was a short silence. Grace tried to think of something to say – she didn't like the silence. It was as if the memory of what she did to Clayton was filling up all the space, creeping into every corner, suffocating her. Then the voice inside her would argue back over and over – he deserved it, he deserved it, he deserved it. And then there was no space left to breathe at all.

"Hal told me what happened," Maggie said, rescuing her from her thoughts. "You saved his life."

Grace swallowed. "Yeah," she said. "I know."

There was nothing for a while. Grace started pushing the grains of rice into a line with her fork. She thought Maggie was about to leave, and then Grace opened her mouth before she could really think about what she was going to say.

"How do you live with it?" she asked suddenly. Maggie's brows furrowed. She leant her arm against the table, staring at Grace, waiting for her to explain. "I saw what you did to Billy and Cueball. How easy it was for you," continued Grace. "How can you just forget about that?"

Maggie's eyes drifted down, and suddenly Grace felt horrified that she might have stirred up bad memories for the woman. But eventually Maggie looked back up to meet Grace's gaze.

"I should have done what I did a long time ago. But back then I was scared. After a while, I learnt to control that fear. I used it against them. I did what I had to to survive. If I'd left it another month, well, who knows? I might not have even been here. Neither might you or your people."

Grace nodded. It still didn't make her feel any better. She knew she didn't regret what she did, it was more the fact that she had to do it. All these people she'd put her trust into, only to be betrayed. Doctor Harris, Clayton. Or maybe what bothered her was not just the fact that they had to die. She wanted them dead. Yes. For threatening her life, her family. For being cruel, callous men and abusing those who needed their help.

She couldn't help it. She was glad they were dead. So what did that make her?

Maggie put the apples into her pocket, and then touched Grace's arm. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Grace followed Maggie through the school and to a classroom where Sarah was lying sleepily on a gurney. On her chest was a tiny little thing wrapped in blankets. Bright pink with a wrinkly little face and scrunched up eyes. Maggie told her the baby's name was Charlotte. Grace couldn't help smiling. She was a beautiful little thing.

"Hey," Sarah greeted them, yawning.

"Hey," Maggie said, her voice low. "Didn't mean to wake you." She retrieved the apples from her pocket. "Something to satisfy those cravings."

Sarah smiled warmly at her. Her gaze settled onto Grace, who was still staring at Charlotte.

"She's gorgeous," Grace said.

"Wanna hold her?"

"Can I?"

Sarah nodded. Very gently, she picked up the baby and slowly placed her into Grace's arms. She was heavier than she looked, but it was nice. Grace hadn't held a baby this small since Matt was born. Baby Charlotte opened her eyes, looking up at Grace.

"Hi," she cooed, grinning widely. "Hi, Charlotte. I'm Grace." The baby smiled and drooled and Grace laughed. "That's right. Hi there. Welcome to the world."

It was then that Grace's eyes began to well again, but it was different this time. She knew why Maggie had brought her here. Because in a world where fathers died to protect their sons, where once good men turned bad and selfish, where people killed and hurt each other and were hunted like animals – there was still good. There was still innocence.

And really that was all she could hope for.

TBC