The National Guard convoy traversed the streets of the city at a decently moderate pace. A little part of me began imagining that I was traveling through some sort of urban battleground like you would see in Afghanistan or Iraq or, more recently, Syria. In a way, though, I wasn't that far off from the truth. My city was indeed an urban battleground, or it had been until the National Guard had finally defeated the Nothlit State. The National Guard had won back the city after almost a whole month of battle against the Nothlit State, with the final nail in the coffin of the nothlits being the death of their field commander Immib Two-Seven-One and the mysterious disappearance of their self-declared leader Eldril Eight-One-Two. Well, technically speaking, it was only the main body of Nothlit State fighters concentrated in and around the Yeerk Pool underneath the city which had surrendered to the National Guard. There were still reports of tiny pockets of resistance, usually lone fighters but sometimes pairs and even a fairly decent-sized group once, scattered throughout the city continuing to fight for a group that had already given up the ghost. I could hear other National Guard units reporting making contact with and engaging these pockets of resistance on the radio in the Humvee where I was riding with Tarash and Yibey. Most of these radio contacts were interspersed with short bursts of gunfire from rifles and the occasional machine gun, but other reports coming in only had units telling other units where they were in relation to the city and to each other.
It took me a few moments to realize that the convoy was now passing through the very same route that I had traveled while escaping from the Nothlit State. I recognized the intersection where the National Guard had stopped me because they thought that I was a nothlit myself before they confirmed my identity (with the help of Uncle Earl) and brought me back to their forward base. Remind me to thank your Uncle Earl for saving both of our asses that night, Yemra said to me once I had completed the previous thought. I don't want to admit it, but I really thought we were going to die that night. First Charegh, then Amanda, then you going Rambo on Immib and his friends, and then I thought we had made it through all that only to get killed by an overenthusiastic private with an itchy trigger finger.
((Oh, God, Yems, here we go again,)) I said, rolling my eyes both physically and mentally. ((How many times have I told you, sometimes you just gotta trust some people.))
Yes, well, I have been on the receiving end of some angry soldiers before, Yemra said with a tone that hinted that as far as she was concerned, that was the end of this particular conversation for her. Then I remembered that there was still a lot of Yemra's life that I didn't know about. She had promised me many times that one time, she was going to tell me everything, but that "one time" still hasn't come yet.
We then passed by the street where I had killed Immib. Where we had killed Immib. Yes, the decision to shoot at Immib and his two friends or bodyguards or whatever they really were was mine and mine alone, but when it was all between Immib and me in the final fight, it was Yemra who helped me get the gun in the former Visser's holster and shoot him before he strangled me. ((Thank you,)) I told Yemra. ((For helping me out there.))
Yeah, well, it's not like you're the only one he's going to kill if he did choke you to death, my Yeerk replied with tired sarcasm. If you die, I die. And not just in some mystical, magical, "our souls are connected and intertwined with each other" way. It's biological. I'll starve if I'm stuck inside your dead body, and that's if Immib didn't blow out your brains just to make sure.
((Yeah, Yems, like I said, I'm really glad for the help,)) I repeated, sensing that my Yeerk was about to go off the rails about Immib once again. She takes this nearly getting killed stuff very seriously.
I looked at the street where I had fought Immib, stared at the brick wall that had served as my protection during our little gunfight, and then I noticed some patches on the asphalt that looked like they could very well have been where Immib and his friends had fallen. I even saw, or thought I saw, what I thought were drag marks through one of the patches. ((So maybe one of Immib's goons might have made it through all that, after all,)) I mused.
To be fair, you were just spraying and praying after you nailed the first guy.
((Not Immib though,)) I continued. ((He's dead as a dodo. I made sure of that. We made sure of that.))
The convoy turned a corner and I saw that we were now on the road leading directly to the community center. It was here where the scars of war on this city were most visible for everyone to see. I could make out bullet holes on the sides of buildings and scorch marks where grenades and other explosives had landed and blown up, sometimes finding their targets and sometimes not. We passed by what appeared to be a hastily constructed defensive position on one intersection. There were a number of soldiers standing around the defensive position, rifles on their backs and surgical masks on their faces. Two soldiers were loading something that looked like body bags into the back of a truck, and said truck appeared to be already half full of said body bags.
As our Humvee passed by the position, I managed to see two more soldiers carrying the body of a woman and putting it into a body bag. Both of her legs below the knees appeared to have been torn off suddenly and violently. Blood both bright and dark red caked the parts of her jeans nearest the stumps. ((Oh, my God,)) I muttered. ((That's a bad way to go.))
That must have been a very horrible last few minutes for her, Yemra agreed. She then uttered a Yeerkish prayer for the peaceful passage of the woman nothlit's soul to the Yeerk afterlife. I also prayed for her in my own way.
The convoy rounded yet another corner and I now saw the community center itself up ahead. Memories of the last few times that I had been there or near it played back in my head, from the time that I had to save Tarash from that nothlit gunman-slash-assassin to the time I was held captive by the Nothlit State to that ill-fated escape which saw both my saviors get killed. I didn't let myself linger on the memories. If I did, I knew that I would start crying again and no one, not even Yemra, would be able to stop me for a whole hour. It was better not to dwell on things like that anyway.
That's a wise choice, Jen, Yemra agreed with me.
The convoy suddenly came to a screeching halt. My first thought was that we had been attacked by one of those pockets of resistance that the radio keeps talking about, and then I was forced to reconsider that when I didn't hear so much as a single gunshot. No gunshots from the convoy or from any of the buildings surrounding us. It was then that I began to look around more closely and saw that we were already in front of the community center. We were parked right in the middle of the main parking lot to be specific. "All right, everyone, it's time to go," the driver of our Humvee said once he had turned around to face us. Ken Fuchs turned around to look at Emily, and Emily turned to look at me and nodded. I took that as the signal to get out of the Humvee. As soon as all three of us were out of the Humvee, a protective diamond of National Guard soldiers had formed around us. "Looks like we're walking the rest of the way," Ken said with a smile.
Our little group began walking across the parking lot, and ahead of us a small and steady stream of nothlits were walking slowly out of the community center, hands raised to their heads in the universal gesture of surrender. Okay, maybe it was not actually universal as in every single species in the universe knew, recognized, and used the gesture. But according to Yemra, Hork-Bajir, Skrit Na, and Ongachics raise their arms when signifying that they no longer want to fight, and the Andalites are also familiar with similar gestures even before they became a space-faring species. Anyway, these nothlits were being made to walk out to the parking lot, where they were told to lie down on their stomachs and wait. More National Guard soldiers walked up and down the lines of the surrendered, making sure nobody was making any funny moves. Another group of soldiers went out of the community center carrying bundles of weapons like assault rifles, submachine guns, and even the odd machine gun and sniper rifle. They laid these guns down side by side on the other side of the lot, sorted out by type.
We then passed by a painfully familiar silver car abandoned in the middle of the parking lot. The sound of the shattering glass once again echoed in my mind with sickening freshness, and I gritted my teeth and balled up my fists to keep myself from crying out. Two soldiers wearing surgical masks had just finished zipping up a body bag beside the car when we walked by, and I had to close my eyes as we passed them. I knew who exactly it was that they had just put in the bag.
Kandrona, that was such a waste, Yemra muttered, mentally shaking her metaphorical head. Amanda deserved better than this.
((I know, Yems,)) I said back, not really willing to dwell on that particular matter right now.
As we got closer to the community center, Ken Fuchs/Yibey Nine-One-Five turned to face me and said, "All right, Jen, Yemra, I think both of you know why the Visser and I have asked the both of you to come here. We need your help to guide us through the Nothlit State's headquarters and take us through all of the important places like the cells, the barracks, and the room where they had their Anti-Morphing Ray. Now we know that the both of you have had… a not really pleasant time in this place, and the less said about the AMR the better, but we need to find that AMR in order to learn how and where the nothlits could have gotten it. You don't have to do this if you don't want, though. Just say the word and we're going back to the FOB."
I mean, he's right, Jen, Yemra said. You really don't have to do this now. You can do this another time and it would be perfectly all right.
"No, I want to do this," I replied, both to Ken/Yibey and to Yemra. "I wanna get this over with. Let's do this."
"All right then," Yibey said once he had exchanged a meaningful look with Tarash. "Lead the way."
We moved ever closer to the community center, which now looked both familiar and alien to me. Maybe it was because of all the National Guard soldiers milling about both outside and inside. Or maybe because I was now able to take the time to look around and see the sights, so to speak, instead of just running for the nearest exit. Whatever it was though, I knew that I would never be able to look at the community center and the Yeerk Pool underneath it the same way ever again.
We went inside the community center, stepping over broken glass, debris, and spent bullet casings. I walked past the shops lining the main hall and headed for the emergency exit tucked in between two shops. There were two National Guardsmen standing on either side of the exit, and they immediately stepped closer to each other to block off access. Ken raised his hand at them and said, "We're with the Human-Yeerk Alliance. We're here to inspect the Pool tunnels for damages and modifications by the nothlits. Major Kang has already approved this."
The two Guardsmen looked at each other. One nodded, and the other shrugged, and then they both stepped away from the emergency exit to let us through. I took a deep breath to brace myself for what was about to come, and then I descended down the stairs and into the Yeerk Pool tunnels. It wasn't like the tunnels that you may have heard or read about, the tunnels behind the McDonald's counters and the Gap changing rooms; this tunnel was connected to the community center's emergency exit and was itself an emergency exit for the Pool.
The three of us went down the emergency stairwell and through the doors leading to the Yeerk tunnels. As I set foot in the tunnel I remembered the last time that I had been here, evading the pursuing nothlits with Cherry and Amanda. I saw a bloodstained spot on the concrete floor where Cherry had decided to make her last stand in order to give me and Amanda a better chance of getting out of here alive. More bloodstains and spatters in and around the area made the morbid part of me wonder how many nothlits Cherry was able to take down before she bit the dust herself, and also if the nothlits eventually dragged her away or just left her to rot where she lay. Ah, the human mind is truly a strange and wonderful thing, Yemra mused.
((Well, Yems, if I took this way too seriously, I wouldn't even be able to do this in the first place,)) I muttered. It was true, though. The world was such a dark and dangerous place that if I didn't just sit back and accept that sometimes shit happens, I knew that I was going to go crazy. Crazier than me letting an alien worm living inside my head anyway.
Originally I had thought that I wouldn't be able to lead Tarash and Yibey around the tunnels when I went back in, but as soon as I stepped foot in the tunnels I felt like I knew the whole place like the back of my hand. I couldn't explain it back then and I can't explain it right now. I just knew where to go. Maybe I had been subconsciously memorizing the layout of the place for reasons, or maybe it was Yemra doing the memorizing. I don't really know.
I took Tarash and Yibey down the warren of tunnels, remembering every single turn that I had taken during my escape. And then I walked past a number of rooms that appeared to have been carved right out of the living rock, and then I stopped. "Here, right here," I told the former Visser and Sub-visser. "These are the cells," I explained.
"Interesting," Yibey/Ken said. "These were definitely not here the last time we were here. The nothlits must have had access to construction-grade Dracon beams to get these cells carved out of the bedrock in just a few days. Weapons-grade Dracons can't get nearly a tenth of the penetration that construction Dracons have, and Dracon artillery would have caused a cave-in. Snam, it would have collapsed the entire Pool system if they tried to shoot an artillery-grade Dracon into the rock."
"And the cells themselves look like they've been built for long-term containment," Tarash/Emily added. "They were planning on staying here for a long time. And with the number of cells in here… They were planning to keep a lot of prisoners as well."
"But why would they want to do that?" Yibey asked. "If they were planning on bringing in their own Yeerks, why have cells for prisoners that they might capture? Wouldn't it make more sense to just infest their captives and turn them to their side immediately?"
"I agree; none of this makes much sense," Tarash nodded. She and Yibey then began talking about other things related to the nothlit uprising, things that I can't really talk about because of national security and other such stuff. They walked around the cells, stepping inside and looking at the amenities (if they could even be called that) that the nothlits had laid out for their captives. They examined the Gleet BioFilters lining the edges of the cells and talked about how they were apparently more advanced than the invasion-era models that they had last seen back in the day. Finally, they walked out of the cells, and Yibey said to me, "I think we'd all like to see that Anti-Morphing Ray now, Jen."
"Yeah, sure. Of course," I nodded. I then walked past the both of them and went back down the way that we had come. This time I fully remembered where I needed to go. I remember every single moment that those nothlits dragged me out of my cell and into that little room, their little torture chamber. I remember every single fucking detail, every turn, every corner, even the individual grains of rock in the tunnel walls. I remembered them all.
In just a few moments I had arrived at the "torture room", as I had come to call it. The Anti-Morphing Ray was still there, standing right in front of the lone chair in the room. Once again I had flashbacks to the last time I was here, all of the memories (both the painful and the pleasurable) that that infernal thing had brought right back up to the forefront of my consciousness and forced me to live through again. I didn't know why either Tarash or Yibey would be interested in the AMR but I did know one thing for certain: I didn't want to experience the effects of the AMR ever again. I wouldn't even wish it on my enemies. Well, maybe some of them probably deserve a little zap or so. You know who you are.
The weight of my past experiences with this room and the AMR within eventually got the better of me, and I excused myself out of it while Yibey and Tarash continued to examine the ray projector. I went down the tunnels and found myself in a large cavern filled with tables and medical stretchers. There were a number of people, or should I say nothlits, lying on the stretchers, and there were also a few National Guard soldiers standing watch. I realized then that this was the nothlits' infirmary. It couldn't have been anything else. Where else would the nothlits put their wounded?
I passed by a row of tables with bodies covered in sheets, for humans the universal sign that the people underneath said sheets were recently deceased. "Recently" being a relative term as always, but consensus puts one week ago as the furthest date that could be considered "recently". Despite all that though, there was only the slightest hint and whiff of rotting flesh and expelled excreta coming from the bodies, probably because the whole thing was deep underground and thereby slowing down the decomposition process. But why were there still bodies down here? Surely the nothlits could have just vaporized them with Dracon beams if they wanted to dispose of them. Were they trying to keep a record of every single nothlit killed in the fight against the humans? What was it?
Don't ask me, Yemra muttered. I know nothing about how the nothlits think.
We passed by a body on a table that, unlike many of the other bodies on that row, was not yet covered with a cloth. Maybe he had died right around the time that the Nothlit State had finally surrendered to the National Guard. The body seemed oddly familiar, mostly through the clothes he was wearing. Some kind of plastic tubing was sticking out of his chest. Then I realized why this man had seemed so familiar to me: he was one of the two nothlits with Immib that I had shot during that fateful battle in the streets. The sniper, to be exact.
So the nothlits did manage to drag him all the way back here, Yemra said.
((Didn't do him a lot of good though,)) I replied. ((I mean, he still died.)) I then remembered my experience with the Yeerk healing device and Yemra's warnings about aggressive cell regeneration, and I wondered if this guy had fallen victim to it. No, I don't think so, Yemra replied to my unspoken question. You know what someone with aggressive cell regeneration looks like. He doesn't look like that's how he bought the farm.
((Still, you'd think that the Yeerks would know how to deal with a sucking chest wound like this,)) I said.
Maybe their shipment of healing devices hasn't arrived yet.
"Miss, excuse us, we're coming through," someone said from behind us. I turned around and saw a line of soldiers wearing masks and gloves standing behind me, and I stepped to the side and into a gap between the tables to let them through. The soldiers walked past, carrying more bodies upside for collection and burial. Some of the bodies were already in body bags or covered in sheets, but there were some that like my late sniper friend beside me weren't covered by anything at all.
I happened to glance at one of the bodies when I noticed a flash of eerily familiar platinum blonde hair. And when I looked closer at the body, my suspicions were confirmed. It was none other than the late Charegh Zero-Zero-Two, aka Cherry Greer. Her face had turned as white as her hair; the only color that I could see there was the dried blood on the corners of her mouth. Her face was peaceful and serene in death, but her body was a whole 'nother story. I got only as far as seeing a bunch of ragged holes on her chest before I had to turn away to catch my breath. I gotta get out of here, I thought to myself.
I barged my way past the line of soldiers carrying bodies from the nothlit infirmary back upside without even bothering to say "excuse me". Normally I'm a polite person, but the situation just demanded that I get out of there as soon as I could. I rushed through the tunnels to get away from the dead bodies as fast as possible, and then I ran out of the community center. I didn't stop until I got to a wall to the left of the center, and then I leaned back on it to catch my breath. I ripped off my bulletproof vest and took off my helmet, and I tossed both away as I began to hyperventilate, but I managed to stop myself in the nick of time before I made things worse for myself.
"Oh, God," I muttered. "Oh, God, why? Why does this keep happening to me?" I said as tears began to fall from my eyes once again. I sat there on the pavement like that, lightly rocking back and forth on my haunches as I tried to understand whatever it was that was happening to me. I just couldn't get my mind around it. Was I being taught some kind of life lesson? If I was then I don't think I'm getting it.
((Hey, Yems,)) I called out. Yeah? she responded.
((You've been through this before, right? Combat? Seeing your friends, Yeerks you know getting killed? Tell me, honestly. Does it get any easier?))
If Yemra had lungs, she would have taken a deep breath. You would think that it gets easier, she finally said. But it never really does. You'll always remember the ones you lost. They might not be in your thoughts all the time, but the simple fact of the matter is that you will never forget anyone. That's all that I can tell you from my experience.
((Thanks for the chat, Yems,)) I said with a weak smile. ((It's not the best speech by a country mile, but thank you nonetheless.))
That's what friends are for, right? Yemra asked, giving me a mental smile of her own. And she was right about that.
A/N: Any and all reviews and comments about my work are much appreciated. It only takes a few minutes of your time and it also lets me know what you think about my stories. Thank you. – GR