Chapter 17

Rick Thompson. She thought she'd seen the last of him back in Fitchburg. Presumed dead, they'd mourned him along with the other hundred or so souls who perished that day. Admittedly, she hadn't mourned him quite as much. She'd had a firm distrust of him ever since he had been de-harnessed along with her brother. Only, Rick had suffered some type of stockholm syndrome and had convinced himself he belonged with the aliens.

Was that why he was here? Had he been living with the skitters all this time, doing their bidding? Unfortunately, they couldn't ask him. Doctor Glass had removed a chunk of shrapnel from his shoulder and he was currently lying unconscious in the med bus.

Captain Weaver didn't trust him and neither did Grace. She could sympathise with the boy to some extent. It wasn't his fault the aliens changed him. But he was dragging Ben down with him, putting him at risk, and she couldn't have that. Even when Weaver ordered him and Ben to use their abilities to help the Second Mass at Fitchburg, Grace risked her life to find them before Rick could put her brother in harm's way.

Speaking of Ben, there had been no sign of him all day. It wasn't unlike him nowadays to disappear for an hour or so to be alone with his thoughts, especially after losing Jimmy. But it had been far too long and the Masons were getting worried.

Hal and Grace headed out on their bikes to the back roads to check for any signs of him. They came up empty. It was as if the boy had disappeared into thin air.

"What if Rick did something to him?" Grace said distraughtly, turning off her engine as Hal pulled up alongside her.

Hal was suspiciously quiet, biting his lip and tapping the handlebar nervously with his thumb.

Grace narrowed her eyes at him. "I know that look. What is it?"

Hal switched off his bike's engine, releasing a heavy sigh. "Don't get mad…"

"I won't."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"We don't have time for this, Hal! What is it?"

He avoided her gaze for a moment. "Back at the harnessing facility, I saw something…"

"What?" snapped Grace impatiently.

"When Ben stood by the tank of skitter harnesses, his spikes lit up. Like Rick's were when I found him this morning. It was like he was communicating with them or something."

Grace stared at him. It was like the world was spinning around her. She was in a storm and in that storm of grief and haze, she saw something. She saw Jimmy beside her, impaled on the tree, and in the distance was Ben, kneeling before the red-eyed skitter, his spikes glowing.

She felt sick.

"Grace…"

"We need to tell Dad now," she said, hardly blinking.

"I promised Ben…"

"I don't care what you promised him, Hal! You should have told me. You should have told Dad. Do you have any idea what could be happening to him right now?" She looked away from him. Her hands were shaking. Her worst fears seemed to be coming true.

"Alright. Alright, let's go."

Tom took the news as badly as Grace did, if not worse. But there wasn't time to focus on blame, they had to find Ben and fast. Their dad ordered another sweep of the city, but since Doctor Glass was critically low on supplies, Weaver had already instructed Hal, Maggie and Dai to scout the pharmacies and hospitals. Since Dai was a better tracker, they traded Tector and Crazy Lee for him. At least that was two Beserkers Grace didn't have to worry about. She still had the others to keep her eye on though.

"Dad! Dad!"

Before they could leave to look for Ben, Matt came bounding towards them, grabbing Tom by the sleeve.

"Rick - he's awake, and he's really freaked out! Captain Weaver wants you to meet him at the med bus!"

Rick was in a bad state. When Grace and Tom rushed onto the med bus, he was lying down, wide-eyed and panting, sweat covering his body.

"I've tried to question him," Weaver muttered to Tom beside him. "All I get is this."

"He woke up completely disoriented and panicked," Anne explained, mopping the boy's forehead with a cloth. "He needs rest."

"We don't have time for rest," Weaver snapped.

"Dad," Grace said cautiously, remembering the last time she got too close to Rick during one of his strange 'episodes'.

Tom raised a hand at her, telling her it was okay. Grace held her breath as she watched Rick's head turn sharply to look at Tom and Weaver.

"Is...Ben...with you?" he said between fast breaths.

"No. No, he's not," Tom replied with knitted brows.

"He's in danger," Rick panted, his teeth gritting together. "We're all in danger."

Weaver leaned closer to him. "How, son?"

"Was he with you?" Grace asked him from a slightly safer distance.

"Yeah," replied Rick.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"He's...he's hurt real bad."

Grace held back her tears as her heart pounded harder inside her chest.

"Where is he, Rick?" Tom asked urgently.

"I don't know...but I can find him."

Were they crazy for trusting him? Probably. Grace fully expected the kid to lead them into a trap. But it was a chance she and her dad had to take. For Ben. They weren't about to lose him to the skitters again.

She couldn't help training her rifle on Rick as he slowly led them through the city. She, Tom, Weaver, Boon, Dai, and Lyle followed him down a road of abandoned cars, dead skitters and collapsed mechs. She felt the sensation of wet leaves and broken pieces of metal on the soles of her boots.

"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" Boon queried, glancing around him with a dubious expression on his goofy face.

As if on queue, Rick's harness began to glow.

"Maybe that," Dai said, straight-faced as he indicated to the blue lights along Rick's spine.

"He's near," the boy murmured.

"Ben?" Tom clarified.

"Yes, Ben's near, too."

"What do you mean? Ben's with somebody else?"

"This way."

Rick sprinted into a dark building, leaving everyone else sprawling after him. He was damn fast. Grace struggled to keep up with him as he led them down a damp and gloomy hallway and out into a courtyard.

He stopped. The group caught their breaths, pointing their guns towards Rick in case he tried to pull anything stupid. But instead, he stooped to touch the ground, where Grace realised there was fresh blood.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "Ben?"

He was hurt, she knew it. She was ready to shoot, to kill, to beat whatever alien scum had done this. She kept her gun high as Rick stood and slowly walked towards some wooden archway doors.

"Here."

They watched as Rick headed inside. Grace covered her father as he followed suit, rushing inside to aid his injured son. It was dark and wet inside, but Grace thought she saw a flash of her brother before he vanished behind a pillar.

"Ben? It's Dad!" Tom yelled to him. "Are you hurt?"

"Dad! Just - just go away!"

Tom and Grace exchanged a baffled look.

"Ben. It's Rick," Rick explained calmly, taking a gentle step forward. "I brought them here."

"Why would you do that?" Ben's distressed voice echoed from the other side of the room.

"Because he needs their help. Otherwise he'll die and everything that he worked for will be lost."

What the hell was this kid talking about? Grace could see the confusion on her dad and Weaver's faces - confusion and worry for whatever was about to unfold.

Rick took another step forwards. "Okay?"

"I'm not gonna let you hurt him!" cried Ben, leaping out of his hiding place with his gun pointed at them.

Weapon still raised, Tom asked, "Hurt who, Ben?"

Ben, breathing hard, reluctantly lowered his gun and turned to his left. He wasn't alone.

Grace was speechless as a skitter crawled into view, crouching beside Ben. As if that wasn't bad enough, she recognised this skitter.

She felt like she'd been kicked in the gut, almost doubling over with the shock. In her memory, she heard Jimmy screaming as he bled out against the tree, she saw the skitter that did it, the one with the red eye.

Red Eye, who was standing in front of her right now, right next to her brother. Jimmy's killer. And now here Ben was, protecting him. She could have screamed, she could have cried but someone beat her to it.

"No! That's not possible!" Tom roared beside her, raising his rifle towards Red Eye. He took a few hastened steps closer, aiming for the skitter.

"No! No!" Ben screamed. Even from a distance, Grace could see the spikes illuminating on the back of his neck.

Rick calmly held his hand out to pacify Tom. "Lower your weapon, Professor."

"I know this skitter! He was on the ship with me! He tried to kill me!"

The skitter moaned, obviously in distress.

Grace felt dizzy. The same skitter. The one that killed her best friend also nearly killed her father. None of this made sense. Why was Ben here? Why was he protecting the monster that had done this to them?

Suddenly, Rick looked down. Another voice possessed him: "I saved you, professor. I saved you from death. You know this to be true."

Grace looked back at Red Eye. It raised its long claw-like fingers as he talked through Rick like his puppet. The other arm was holding a wound on its side. It was weak. Pitiful.

"We must talk. It is urgent you understand. So put down your weapon."

"Dad," Ben pleaded, "if we don't help him, he's - he's dead."

"Let him die!" spat Grace, horror on her face as she watched Ben defend him. "Ben, what are you doing?" she felt the moisture pool in her eyes. "He killed Jimmy."

Weaver looked between her and the skitter. "What? This is the skitter that killed Jimmy?"

Grace nodded, her lower lip trembling as she pointed her gun towards Red Eye. If only her brother's body wasn't acting as a human shield, she would have pulled the trigger without a second thought.

Ben appeared just as pitiful as the skitter, his eyes gleaming fearfully as his gaze darted back and forth between Grace and their dad. He was terrified. Terrified about a skitter dying? The very notion made no sense.

"I know it is difficult to understand, but we are fighting the same enemy," continued Rick's robotic voice." Anger, hate - these I feel, too. But until we defeat the overlords... We cannot hope to-"

"Stop! Stop talking!" yelled Tom ferociously.

"Many lives have been sacrificed, Tom Mason. Many more will…"

A loud thud interrupted his speech. The Skitter had collapsed behind Ben, shortly followed by Rick.

Ben glanced behind him, immediately rushing to the skitter's aid. "No!" He put down his gun and knelt beside him.

"Move out of the way, son," Weaver warned Ben as he and Dai came closer, fingers poised on their triggers.

Ben ignored them, leaning over Red Eye before calling out: "Dad!"

"Dai, get Rick," the captain ordered. "Take him out of here. It's time to send this cockroach back to the hell it came from."

"No argument here, captain, sir," said Boon in a low, smug voice as he moved in on the skitter.

Grace gravitated towards her brother, waiting for the opportune moment to grab him.

"Wait, please!" screamed Ben on his knees, his hands in the air, as if Boon was about to execute him rather than a dying skitter. The cries had a gut wrenching effect on Grace that almost made her want to save the skitter. But she couldn't allow it. The alien scum murdered Jimmy. It was the enemy; she couldn't believe otherwise. It had to die.

So she was surprised when Tom ran over, holding his hand out and yelling. "Wait, wait, wait!"

"Woah, what!" Weaver yelled back.

For a second, everyone froze. Ben was breathing hard, his hands still raised in the air as Boon leered over him with the rifle, waiting for the order to shoot.

Grace watched as her dad turned to Weaver. "We need him, as a prisoner."

"No way!" Lyle bellowed back at them.

"The only good skitter is a dead skitter," agreed Boon, scowling down at the foul thing.

"It was there when I was interrogated. They trusted it," Tom explained to Weaver. "It might know something. It might know everything." His eyes were darting back and forth in thought before settling on Ben and the skitter again.

"Dad…" Grace murmured. "You can't be serious? This thing tortured you, it killed Jimmy, you want to bring it into our camp?

"Listen to your little girl, Mason! She's making sense!" called Lyle.

Grace glanced at him. She never thought she'd be on a Beserker's side, especially when the opposing side was her own flesh and blood, but on this occasion she found it to be true.

"I think the military in Charleston would be interested to know what we can get out of it," Tom continued, turning back to Weaver.

"And if it doesn't talk?" countered Weaver, glancing back between Tom and the unconscious skitter.

"Then it's of no use to us. We dispatch it to hell, just the way you said."

The captain mulled it over for a second, rolling his tongue around the inside of his cheek, before nodding. "Step back," he ordered.

"No," Grace whispered. Ben's distressed face turned into Jimmy's, his cries, his blood. It was suddenly all she could see. This wasn't right. She refused to lower her weapon.

"Stand down, Grace," Weaver ordered.

"You can't let it live," said Grace furiously. "After what it did?"

"You don't understand, Grace," snapped Ben.

Tom stepped forward. "It's more valuable to us alive, Grace."

"I don't care," she muttered, remembering how carelessly the skitter flicked Jimmy to one side, like a piece of garbage, onto the spike that took his life. Like it was nothing. She pointed the rifle at the skitter.

"Don't do this," Weaver reprimanded her, stepping closer to her. "I know you're angry, Grace. Believe me, there's nothing I want more than to get justice for Jimmy. But your father's right. Remember what I told you after Jimmy's funeral?"

Grace felt the tears prick her eyes again. She had a straight shot. She could avoid her brother, but she couldn't help looking into his face. His young, imploring face. She'd kill this skitter for Jimmy and for Ben, for what the aliens did to both of them. But as she stared at her baby brother's face, as she listened to her captain's words, she found herself remembering that talk after Jimmy's funeral.

"We owe it to him to stay in the fight," repeated Weaver. "We'll win this war for him, even if it means losing the battle every now and then. Even if it means letting his killer live a little longer."

A tear rolled down her face as her finger hovered on the trigger. The skitter was lifeless enough already, it'd be so easy to finish it off. Job done. She would have avenged Jimmy and ridded the world of another nasty cockroach. But ultimately, she knew Weaver and her dad were right. This was bigger than just one skitter. She had learned by now that war wasn't all about killing. It was about intelligence, and it sounded like this skitter had plenty of it.

She sniffed, just beginning to lower her rifle when she saw Ben launch at her from the corner of her eye. She felt the force of him collide into her as he pried her weapon away, then the sensation of falling before…

Darkness.