Chapter 18

Grace.

The weight of what felt like a hundred bricks weighed her down. Bright lights shone in her face, but she couldn't make it out. She couldn't move. Couldn't speak. A blurred figure appeared above her.

I'm sorry I hurt you. It was an accident. I just couldn't let anything happen to him.

The voice was low and familiar. She wanted to reach out to him, wanted to touch him, but her limbs felt like concrete, pulling her down.

He didn't mean to hurt Jimmy. That's the truth. He wants to help us.

Lying flat on her back, she tried to turn her head towards the voice. The figure sat beside her. She knew him. She knew this place. She was starting to wake up.

I'm gonna make up for this. I promise, Grace.

Grace raised her head weakly. "Ben?"

"Grace."

Grace blinked a few times until the figure standing over her came into focus.

"Dad?" she croaked.

Tom smiled sympathetically at her. "How're you feeling?"

Grace instantly felt the bruise pulsing on the back of her head. "Sore." She groaned as she sat up, looking around. She was in her tent. "I thought Ben was in here?"

"He was, a couple hours ago," answered Tom, looking towards the tent flap. "You took a tumble when he snatched the rifle off you. You bumped your head." He sat in the chair beside Grace, handing her a bottle of water which Grace took eagerly. "He's pretty torn up about what happened."

"About pushing me over or about protecting a skitter?" Grace asked bitterly. She hoped it had been a bad dream, but she knew most of her nightmares these days were reality. She could forgive Ben for injuring her, but for protecting Jimmy's killer? She wasn't so sure.

Tom looked down at his hands as Grace took a swig of water.

"He really believes in this skitter. Says he's the leader of some resistance that's been trying to overthrow the Overlords for over a hundred years."

Grace spluttered a little. "Dad. You know how crazy that sounds?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "About as crazy as a history professor being the second in command of a militia regiment aiming to overthrow an alien occupation?"

"Point taken." She smirked. "But the skitters are harnessed, right? How have they resisted the harness?"

Tom shook his head. "Not sure. But apparently, many of them have. This red-eyed one claims to have been 'undercover' so to speak. That's why he was on the ship and why he tortured me."

"Like it was just some show?" Grace said sceptically. "He executed people. He hurt Jimmy. We can't trust him."

Tom sighed.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"We're going to talk to him."

"Red Eye? No way!"

"I have to hear him out. See what we can learn from him."

"He doesn't deserve to be heard out. This is all some sick game to him."

"Grace," he almost snapped. "We have to try."

Her eyes gleamed as she stared at him, then she nodded. "I'll come with you."

Tom got to his feet. "You've had enough excitement for one day."

"Dad. I'm coming with you," she repeated sternly, sitting up on the bed and reaching for her jacket.

Tom sighed again, nodding at her. "He's waiting for us."

The skitter was locked up in one of the empty warehouses. Barricaded in a makeshift cage and still suffering from its wounds, it seemed fairly harmless locked behind the metal bars, raising its head weakly as Grace followed Weaver, Ben, and her father through the tarp covering and towards their prisoner.

Rick, as translator, was already waiting for them, standing outside the cage and watching them expectantly as if he were the one about to be interrogated.

Grace felt her heart flutter at the sight of Red Eye, standing calmly opposite her on the other side of the cage. The last time they had a skitter locked up like this, it didn't end well for the skitter. She could end it all here, in the blink of an eye. Stab that soft spot at the back of its throat just like Anne did to the one back at the school. Perhaps she could never avenge Jimmy entirely, but she was certain that shoving a knife down his killer's throat would at least make her feel better.

She tried to push down those thoughts, but it wasn't easy. Especially when Red Eye asked to speak to Tom alone.

"No way," argued Grace. "We're not going anywhere."

"I second that," Captain Weaver said with a tight-lipped frown. "We don't take orders from you."

Tom took in a quick breath. "It's okay, captain."

Grace stared at her father, her brows drawn together. "Dad?"

Tom nodded at her. "I'll be fine."

Weaver wagged his finger in the air, shaking his head with a defeated expression. "Everybody out. Let's leave them here."

The group broke away. Tom gave Grace a reassuring nod as she glanced from him to the imprisoned alien. She didn't like it, but Ben was leading her away, telling her it was okay. She slowly followed the others back outside, leaving Tom alone with Rick and Red Eye.

Releasing a short sigh, she rested her head against the bottom of that Robert E. Lee mural, letting his giant form tower over her. She hated not knowing what was going on in there, what lies the skitter was feeding her father. Every time that thing opened its mouth - or rather, opened Rick's mouth - all she could think about was that thing throwing Jimmy around like a rag doll.

"You don't need to worry," Ben assured her. He was a little further down the wall, looking a lot more patient than she did. "Trust me."

"The only reason that skitter in there is still standing is because of you," she snapped at him. "Because I trust you. But Ben, you're making it damn hard." She turned towards him, the hurt still evident in her expression, in her voice. "You were as devastated as I was when Jimmy died. Even if what this skitter is saying is true, why does it have to be you? Why do you have to get involved?"

Ben paused a beat, gradually closing the gap between them. "Because nobody else will. No one else gets it, except Rick."

Grace frowned. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

Ben gave her an ironic smile. "It's not supposed to." She returned his gesture with a baffled look. "Grace, I know you won't understand. Ever since this all happened to me, you've been trying to, but you never will. That's just how it is. But I do need you to understand that this is important. It could change everything. It could end this war."

She studied his young face - she had never seen him look so serious about anything before. She wished it reassured her more. She sighed gently. "You're right, I don't understand. But I hope you know what you're doing."

He smiled at her, about to turn around when she grabbed his arm.

"Ben, just so you know, if you're wrong - I'm going to be the one to send that skitter back to the hell it came from. For Jimmy."

Ben nodded solemnly, staring into her gleaming eyes. "For Jimmy? Or for you?" he said under his breath, before breaking away from her.

As the sun set, Grace's patience was wearing thin. Her father had been in there with Red Eye for ages now. What could they possibly be talking about that was taking so long? That couldn't be shared with the rest of them? This was ridiculous; were they really taking commands from a skitter? He was their prisoner, not the other way around. He was lucky they weren't torturing him like he did to her father.

Grinding her teeth together, she glanced impatiently at the tarp behind her.

"I'm going back in," she declared, lifting up her rifle.

"Hold on a second," Weaver stopped her with a mere look. "Your father's still talking to him."

"I've held on long enough," Grace snapped. "We should go back in."

Weaver took a step towards her, considering the option, when a loud explosion in the distance stole their attention. It rocked the camp, causing people to scream and run in terror. Concerned fighters had already fled to investigate. As Grace, Weaver, Dai, Ben, and their Beserker companions peered out towards the direction of the explosion, they spotted fighters running towards them.

"Mechs and beamers!" they screamed. "Out in the city! They're coming!"

Weaver's jaw went rigid. He stormed into the building, tearing aside the hanging tarp and raising his rifle at the encaged alien.

"Get away from it, Tom," he seethed. "That bastard has led them right to us."

"No!" Ben cried, pushing to the front of the group. "That's not it." He backed in front of the cage protectively, the skitter cowering behind him.

"Grace, get Rick and your brother away from the cage."

"Gladly," she muttered, about to grab Ben by the jacket, when he gave her a look that stopped her in her tracks. That concerned, terrified look again. All she wanted to do was protect him, get him away from Red Eye and the skitters and anything else that threatened him. But his words echoed in her head.

He asked her to trust him. Her nerdy, math geek baby brother. He was involved in something so much bigger than her. And if he was right, it could save the world. All she had to do was trust him.

"Grace!" Weaver barked.

She stared at Ben, frozen.

"Dan," Tom interjected, his hand raised to pacify the soldiers in front of him as they pointed their guns towards the alien. "There's something you need to hear."

Weaver glared at him. "You stand down, Tom."

"This isn't the way!"

"I'm giving you an order."

Tom shook his head. "No."

Grace stared, wide-eyed, as her father refused to back down. This wasn't the first time he and Weaver had had a stand-off, but this time she felt conflicted. Now not only was her brother defending the alien, but her father too? Her heart raced as she sensed the gunfire outside closing in on them.

"You stand down now, damn it!" Weaver bellowed through grit teeth.

Just as Weaver raised his voice, a loud clang made Grace cry out. The cage door had swung open, releasing the alien from its enclosure. Before she knew it, it was crawling at great speed across the wall and Boon was firing round after round of his shotgun at it.

Red Eye was much too quick for him. It scuttled past them, heading for the outside. There was a fury in Boon's eyes as he chased after it, Dai and Lyle following closely behind.

"No! Don't shoot!" Rick begged, leaping in front of Boon just as he fired off his next shot.

Grace gasped as Rick hurtled backwards onto the hard floor, blood splattering from his chest.

"Rick!" Ben cried, rushing to kneel beside him.

Grace followed, crouching on the other side of Rick, watching helplessly as the blood seeped through his clothing.

The eruptions and gunfire outside were getting louder, so Weaver ordered them to move. He, Dai, Boon and Lyle headed out to help move the convoy on whilst Grace, Ben and Tom hovered over a dying Rick.

Blood smeared the boy's chest as he gasped for breath.

"Ben," he rasped as a distressed Ben leaned over him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Ben, it's okay." He coughed. "Killing this one person doesn't matter. We'll win it. I know it. Just... talk to your father."

Grace looked up with tears in her eyes as Tom took a step towards Rick, a perplexed and disturbed look on his face.

"You have a father, Ben…" Rick said, gritting his teeth through the pain.

Grace closed her eyes, remembering Rick's father and how he was cruelly shot by other resistance fighters trying to sell kids off to the skitters. He died a hero, protecting them. Outwardly, Rick didn't seem to bat an eye at the loss of his father. But maybe, inside, it affected him more than he let on. He still had his humanity; this tiny slither of hope. A hope which Ben had to make a reality.

The teenager groaned in pain. "Ben... make him believe." He coughed. "Make them believe." He nodded at Ben, wincing, his breathing fast and shallow.

And then he stopped. His eyes glazed over. His chest became still. Rick was gone.

A tear rolled down Grace's cheek. It was then she realised she had been holding Rick's hand the entire time. Since he became de-harnessed, Grace saw Rick as nothing more than an emotionless instrument for the aliens to use against them. But now, in his dying moments, she could see him as the scared kid he really was. And she had seen too many kids die lately. Rick didn't deserve this. No kid deserved this.

"He needs my help," Ben muttered, staring at the ground. He was clearly in shock. "He needs my help."

As Grace looked up to see Ben climbing weakly back to his feet, she realised he was talking about Red Eye.

"Ben." Tom grabbed him from behind, only for Ben to start violently struggling against him.

"He needs me. He needs me. He needs me!" he yelled, fighting as their dad wrapped his arms around him tightly, trying to calm him.

"We need you. We need you," Tom reminded him.

Grace covered her mouth with her hand, more tears falling as she watched Tom pull Ben back, falling against a crate.

"I need you," Tom said calmly, holding Ben close as he stopped struggling. "It's okay. It's okay." Tom whispered the words to him over and over, soothing him. For a second it was like they were young again, and their dad was holding Ben, rocking him back to sleep after a nightmare.

But there was no sleeping off this nightmare. The shock and horror in Ben's face would be etched in Grace's brain forever - the sight of Tom holding him, anchoring him.

Afraid that if he let him go, he would lose him forever.