Chapter 30

"I can't believe he just left. How could he do that?"

Grace was still fretting about Ben's departure, even several hours after Tom had told them he went off to join the Skitter Rebellion. By now they were back on the road to Charleston, driving in the middle of the night and still with at least another twelve hours driving ahead of them.

"He didn't even say goodbye!"

Her father was staring out the window, though with the lighting in the bus, it was more like he was staring at his own dejected reflection.

"He knew you wouldn't let him go," he replied quietly. Grace could see the dismal look in his eyes from his mirrored image in the window.

"I'm surprised you did," she said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. She had always trusted her father's judgement - until now. They had allowed Ben to grow and make his own choices, but they had to draw a line somewhere. Fighting with skitters? Tom was their father. Surely Ben had to listen to him. "A couple days ago, you weren't even convinced the rebellion was real, and now you let Ben run off to join them?"

Tom tiredly turned to look at her, sitting opposite him. "You saw how the Overlord reacted when I mentioned the rebellion. They have him worried. Why else would he have Karen infiltrate us and kidnap Ben?"

"I…I don't know. But if it is real, then all the more reason for Ben to stay with us. Do you really trust a bunch of traitor skitters to look out for him?"

Tom smiled sadly at her. "There was no changing his mind, Grace. He's stubborn, like his sister." He side-eyed her before turning away again.

"You could have given him an order! If he won't listen to you as a father, he can listen to you as a commanding officer."

"Grace," Tom almost snapped. She sat back in her seat, surprised. Tom immediately softened, the despondency returning to his dark, gleaming eyes. "Neither of us could have stopped him. This was something he had to do. Do I regret letting him leave? Of course I do. He's my son and I have no idea if I'll ever see him again! But you second guessing my decisions isn't helping."

She bit her tongue. She was still angry, but now she was angry at herself. "I'm sorry, Dad…"

"It's okay. I know how protective you are of your brothers. After a certain point though, you have to let them grow up. Just like I did with you." He stared at her for a moment, forcing a sad smile, taking in the details of her face - the premature wrinkles around her eyes and the permanent look of exhaustion, the gleam of fear and worry that never seemed to go away. "Sometimes I forget how much you've missed out on…I'm so sorry you couldn't have the life you wanted."

"Dad, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay. You should have had the chance to go to college, meet life-long friends, start a career, start a family…it's what we wanted for you." He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "Now it's all gone, it's not fair."

She felt a lump in her throat, watching the emotion in his ageing, tired features. She'd dreamt of it too, long ago, and she'd mourned for it enough times. It didn't matter now. As long as she was with her family and they were all safe. It was the most anyone could dream now.

"Uh, hey."

Casey suddenly appeared behind them, holding on to Etta's car seat as the infant contentedly babbled inside it.

"I don't mean to alarm you but Matt appears to be writing his Will."

Grace and Tom exchanged a grave, worrisome look.

"Want me to-?" Grace began, already pulling herself up.

"No," said Tom, getting to his feet. "I'll talk to him."

Grace watched him head towards the back of the bus, passing Anne who was tending to patients on the gurneys. Matt was scribbling away in his little journal, sitting on his own. Grace felt her stomach twist. She thought he was drawing pictures, just like he used to - like a kid should. She'd had no idea he was writing his last Will and testament. No nine year old should have to think about that.

"Sorry," said Casey, sitting in Tom's seat and setting Etta down by her boots. "I didn't want to upset you. I know you're already worried about Ben."

"It's okay, I'd rather know," Grace replied, absent-mindedly tapping her foot on the floor. "At least I have my dad to share the burden of worrying."

"You're lucky to have him."

Grace smiled at her. "You must be looking forward to getting to Charleston with this one." She winked at Etta who was staring up at her with those large, angelic eyes.

"I am. It'll be so good for her. For all of us. I'm just imagining putting her to sleep in an actual crib! Changing her into real diapers. I hope Hal, Maggie and Pope have found a safe route for us."

Grace drew in a breath, remembering that her brother had gone ahead with Maggie and the dastardly Pope to scope out the roads ahead of the convoy. Grace figured Pope's sudden altruistic behaviour was to get back in the Second Mass' good books so he could hitch a ride to Charleston - regardless of what he said. She didn't buy it for a minute.

"Have you spoken to Pope much since he got back?"

Casey gently shook her head. "I told him I was sorry about Boon, but we didn't really say much."

Grace nodded, resisting the urge to express her relief. She knew Casey cared about Pope, but the more they stayed away from each other, the better.

"I-I can't!"

The two women at the front of the bus turned their heads just in time to see Lourdes throw down the cup of water and pipette she was using to feed one of her patients and storm towards them, visibly distressed. Grace got to her feet to see what was going on, but as soon as Lourdes saw her she turned on her heel and shot to the other end of the vehicle.

Grace sank awkwardly back into her seat, hearing Anne let out an exasperated noise as she bent down to pick up the mess Lourdes had made.

"She blames you," Casey assessed, watching the young medic retreat to sit beside Matt at the back. "For Jamil."

Grace nodded slowly, pulling her feet up onto the chair so she could hug her legs to her chest. It made her feel small, like she could disappear. She looked ahead at Anthony in the driver's seat, focusing steadily on the dark path ahead of them.

"I've watched you blame yourself for so much, Grace," Casey said gently. "You have enough on your shoulders. Please don't add Jamil's death to that as well."

The young Mason felt the tears begin to prick her eyes as she avoided her friend's gaze. "I can't help it. Lourdes is right. I should have done something more to help him. I just watched him die. Just like with Jimmy, with Mom. Sometimes I worry…what if something is wrong with me?"

Casey furrowed her brow. "What do you mean? You're not letting those silly rumours bother you again, are you?"

Grace sniffed and swiped at her eyes. "No. Nevermind."

"Try not to doubt yourself," Casey advised her as she let Etta play with her finger. "You're human. We've all watched people die. We've all wondered if we could have done more. You know this."

"I know. I know. It's just hard when a friend treats you like the enemy."

"She just needs time. This is her way of dealing. She'll remember who the real enemy is soon enough."

Grace nodded, releasing a sigh. It was at that moment, the bus came to a sudden halt and Grace and Casey practically had to hold on to each other to stop from falling off their seats.

"What's going on?" Grace called, agitated.

"I don't know," Anthony admitted. "Everyone just stopped."

Tom appeared next to her with his rifle already in his hand. "Guess that's our cue."

Grace picked up her weapon and followed Tom and Anthony outside to investigate. Her eyes adjusting to the fog and darkness, she could see a small group up ahead by Captain Weaver and Tector's truck, looking down at something.

She didn't like this. She felt exposed out here, like they were about to be ambushed at any second. She shivered in the frosty, night-time air, raising her gun and keeping in her father's shadow as they approached the group. She tried to look through the tall figures as the headlights on Tector's truck illuminated through them onto whatever was on the ground.

"What the-" she heard her father say as he finally got to the front.

He sounded alarmed, but also confused. Grace shuffled up alongside him, eager to see what all the fuss was about. She experienced the same shock when she saw the body sprawled out in front of them.

"She just came out of nowhere," Tector explained worriedly. "I must have hit 'er."

It was a girl, maybe Matt's age. She had cuts and wounds on her head and body where she had been hit, but far more crucially, she was harnessed.

Grace instinctively pointed her weapon. She knew what harnessed kids were capable of, even ones as young and seemingly harmless as this one.

"Wait," Tom said, risking a closer look. "Her harness."

Grace saw it. The girl's harness was unlit. Deactivated, which meant she was no longer being controlled by the aliens. But Grace knew things weren't always as clean cut as that. Karen had proved it spectacularly. And Rick. You didn't need a harness to be controlled by them.

Weaver ordered them to take her inside the med bus, despite some of the group's reservations. Weaver concluded it was safer that way. They couldn't all stand around out here while they deliberated what to do.

So they brought her inside and laid her down on one of the beds. With the bright, clinical lighting it was much easier to see what they were dealing with. The girl was maybe ten or eleven. Her clothes were ragged and dirty, her skin was a putrid yellowy-green colour and had a bumpy, scaly texture. Her hair was falling out in tufts. Her hands were practically reptilian, her fingernails appearing more like the claws of a lizard. It was clear she had been harnessed for a while, showing the full physical effects of the harnessing process. Horrifying.

"She's unconscious, but she seems to be coming to," Anne told them. "Aside from that, I think her harness might be internally damaged. It isn't glowing."

Tom looked down at the poor girl, half-conscious on the bed. "We can't leave her."

The girl's youth and vulnerability played on everyone's heartstrings, but thank goodness for Weaver's practical thinking. It must have been hard for him, considering he'd had two daughters.

"I want to help her, Tom, but it's too big a risk. After Karen, we cannot afford another enemy agent."

"You got that right, Captain," Anthony agreed, as if it went without saying. The damage caused by Karen's deception was still too raw to forget about.

Grace looked over at the back of the bus where Casey was seated with Matt, curiously watching as the young skitter girl began to stir.

"Where - where am I?" she asked meekly, gradually lifting her head and wincing. "Why does my body hurt?"

Anne immediately leaned over her, speaking to her softly. "You were in an accident, but you're okay. I'm Dr. Glass."

The girl breathed shakily, her eyes widening with panic. "Where's Tyler?"

"Who's Tyler?" Weaver demanded, confused.

"My brother," she replied, her voice strained. "I want my brother."

"I'm sorry," said the captain, looking up at the other fighters. "We don't know where he is."

She squeezed her eyes shut, groaning. "Ow, it hurts!"

"Alright." Weaver held onto her clawed hand as she breathed heavily. It seemed to calm her a little. Grace felt her chest tighten at the sound of the young girl's frightened cries. It triggered something maternal in her, and judging by Weaver's body language, he was having a similar reaction. He was no doubt thinking about his own girls. Grace knew he'd lost another daughter who was similar in age to this girl - Sophie, or maybe Sophia, she couldn't quite remember. But he also had to think about the welfare of his people and their mission to reach Charleston.

"Anthony," he said after a short moment. "Would you please secure her in the back? We've got to keep moving."

They all turned to look at him, surprised by his decision, and unsure whether it was the right one.

Anthony's nose wrinkled. "Seriously?"

"Just do it," he ordered. "Grace, give him a hand."

Grace helped lift the girl to her feet while Anthony tightened a zip tie around her scaly wrists. She then led the girl to the back of the bus, ignoring her confused questions and heart-wrenching sobs, as Anthony followed behind with his weapon. Of course it felt wrong. It always felt wrong to treat a child like this. Grace's heart ached for the girl. But the aliens had turned their kids into weapons. They just couldn't be trusted. Grace had tried to stand up for them in the past, with her brother being one of those poor harnessed kids who were lucky enough to escape. But too much had happened since then. They had been fooled and they had paid the price.

How they dealt with this girl was a test of morality. The problem was, the aliens knew how to use their humanity against them. The Overlord's stunt with Karen was enough to prove that. They all felt the burden of that. How can you show mercy when not even a friend and ally can be trusted? When an innocent child can't be trusted? This was the world the Overlords had created. A world of paranoia and suspicion. Fear and betrayal. Blood and death.

She thought about the discussion she had with her dad, about marriage and kids. Seeing Casey raise Etta had given her some hope, that the life she had imagined might still be possible. But suddenly she was glad it never happened. Thank God the aliens attacked before she had a chance to bring children into this world.

Because this was the world they would have inherited.