Chapter 12

The queen walks through the carnage of the aftermath of the battle. Before her, her subordinates move aside the dead forms of soldiers and stalkers alike. She passes them and heads for the mess hall. As she arrives, she is flanked by two emissaries.

“We have captured several of the rebels,” the first one says.

“You will be please with them,” says the second.

The limp forms of several people sit inside a small semi-circle of chasers. All are held bond by thick crimson-colored tendrils. When the queen steps up to the captured group, each one of the prisoners is lifted out and presented, hanging limply, to her.

“Excellent,” she says as she inspects the future converts. “You even got their leader.” Eisley is indeed there, as well as, Zak, Harlan, Kate, Zola, and several others. The queen looks over each one of the captives in turn. “So human and so weak.” She slowly strokes Eisley’s cheek, gently coaxing her back to consciousness.

The general opens her eyes, fighting the sting caused by the sudden light. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust but once they do, she can’t believe them. “Mom?” she asks hesitantly. She knows it can’t be true, but somewhere deep inside, he hopes that it is.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” the queen says, smiling cruelly. “We don’t recall having any children, other than what we have created.”

“But you...” the young woman begins to say before trailing off with a shake of her head. “You can’t be her.”

“No...” the queen strolls in front of the group, enjoying the power she has over them. “We are not your mother. I merely use that image of her.”

“That’s because no matter how much you despise us, you want to be just as human as us,” Eisley spats.

“You should watch what you say,” the queen says, spinning around to face the woman, nearly slapping Eisley with her breasts. “We don’t need all of you alive, even pretty ones like you.” She runs her hand down his jawline for added effect.

The general pulls away, sneering at her. “Then why are you toying with us? Why not just kill us or convert us?”

“Because we need information,” she says. “We know that many with immunity to us came here, including Audra.”

“And you want her,” the general snarls. Her voice says she is over the betrayal she feels, but her eyes say differently.

“And you want your mother,” the queen counters bitterly. She walks up to another of the hanging rebels. She looks at the man intently before asking quietly, “Do you know where Audra went?”

The man glares down at the captivating woman with a mixture of hate and determination. “I’m not going to tell you shit!” he declares.

She smiles at him in return. She expects no less from him or any of them. “You know,” she says, raising her wrist up to his face. “We could just end your life quickly and painlessly. All you need to do is give me an answer.” The man’s eyes widen in rising terror as he watches a couple tendrils appear from under the skin of her wrist. “Of course, if you still wish to refuse, there is always the long and painful way out.”

“I won’t tell you anything, bitch!” he gnarls.

“Very well,” she says in return. The man struggles vainly as the tendrils approach his face, but the tentacles hold him like a tight, iron fist. He screams a second later as the crimson tendrils burrow into his skin and move across his face. Once they reach his brain, the queen regards him once more. “Where did she go?”

The man struggles weakly as the tendrils probe his very thoughts. “No ... I will ... not ... tell you...” he whispers.

“You will tell us,” she says assuredly. She concentrates her tendrils again, pushing deeper into his mind. Frustration appears on her face. She pushes harder. Blood starts to run from the man’s nose and eyes. And then finally, she withdraws her extensions. The man lets out one last scream in agony and dies. The chasers release him, dropping him to the floor. The queen snickers and says, “He didn’t know anything.” She turns her attention and hand to Eisley, “But we think we know who does.”

As the tendrils start to burrow into Eisley’s skin, the general yells, “Get your shit out of me, you...”

A sudden explosion rocks the base, cutting off the general’s words and the queen’s hold on her. The tendrils retract back. “What is going on?” the queen asks aloud. She looks back up at her prisoners and says, “Hold them!”

As the queen leaves the hall, Kate looks over at Eisley. “General, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the young woman answers, blood dripping from the wounds on her face. “A few more moments with those things in me and I’d have been fucked.”

“What just happened?” Kate asks.

“I don’t know,” the general says. “Whatever it was means that there is someone that hasn’t given up just yet.”

Gunnar stands among the debris of fungus. The chasers have all but melted away into nothing. The fallen forms or people are visible—the remains of the few stalkers that were in the room.

“It worked!” the petite blonde woman next to him shouts.

He looks down at her as she sits on her haunches. “I told you it would.”

“Is it safe for us to breathe?” she says as she rises up. Her head only comes to his chest, but what Caprice lacks in height, she makes up in physical appearance.

“According to Zak, it is only harmful to the fungus,” he explains.

“Do we have any more of it?” she asks.

“There’s the rub,” Gunnar fires back. “We have one bottle of this stuff left. Makes it real hard to kill the bastards with only one, too.”

“Then we need to make it count,” Caprice says, trying to stay sounding hopeful.

“That’s going to be difficult, especially since the Scourge will looking to find out what the explosion was all about,” Gunnar says, sounding slightly discouraged.

“The air vents!” the blonde blurts.

“Good idea,” he counters. “But with only the emergency power, the fans won’t push this stuff through.”

“Would it dilute in water?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Gunnar says, shaking his head. “I’m not a scientist. I only know what Zak told me.”

“Well, it won’t hurt to try,” she says with a shrug.

“How do you propose that?” he asks harshly, regretting his tone instantly. It isn’t the woman’s fault they are in this mess. Besides, she’s the one that saved him from the Scourge earlier.

“The sprinkler system,” Caprice answers, ignoring the man’s bitter words. “Give them a shower.”

Gunnar sighs burdensomely. “They don’t on the emergency power.”

“Can we reroute the power?” the woman offers.