Inside My Head (Silent Moment Series: Book 6)

Chapter 10

 The children's approach seemed to be a signal, as soon after, we heard more voices. Looking up, I saw a group of adults descending the stairs behind the children. The atmosphere was charged with tension and uncertainty.

"Uh, guys," I muttered, alerting my companions to the approaching adults.

Bellamy, his voice low and cautious, reminded us, "Remember, we're in their home. Everyone keep calm."

Raven, standing close behind me, intertwined her fingers with mine in a silent gesture of support. "Weapons down," she whispered, echoing Bellamy's sentiment of non-aggression.

Bellamy then directed a command to Abby. "Stay with Murphy," he said, ensuring Murphy was in safe hands.

The situation escalated quickly as one of the women in the group called out sharply, "Rose! Get away from them!"

The crowd's attention shifted to us, and the air filled with an eruption of noise. The guards, previously unseen, sprang into action, sprinting toward us with urgency.

I raised my voice, trying to convey our peaceful intentions. "It's okay! We're from Earth! We come in peace!"

The children, startled by the sudden commotion, scurried away from us. We found ourselves encircled by the adults, their expressions a mix of fear, suspicion, and anger. A woman, dressed similarly to Kaylee, the woman in shackles, stepped forward. Her tone was both authoritative and concerned. "Kaylee, where have you been? Where's your family?"

Kaylee's response was sharp and bitter. "They killed them," she snapped, her accusation hanging heavily in the air.

Bellamy and I exchanged a glance, a silent communication of our shared uncertainty and concern. The situation was more complex than we had anticipated. The newcomers' reactions indicated a history and conflict we were not yet aware of. The mention of Kaylee's family and her accusatory response suggested deep-seated issues within this community. As we stood surrounded by the inhabitants of this settlement, the need to communicate and understand each other became paramount. We were strangers in their land, and the potential for misunderstanding and conflict was high. We needed to find a way to bridge the gap, to explain our presence, and to understand their perspective. The air was thick with tension, a delicate balance between potential hostility and the possibility of peaceful interaction. We were at a crucial juncture, one that would determine the nature of our relationship with these people and, perhaps, our fate on this alien moon.

Jordan's soft murmur, "That's not good," was an understatement. The situation was escalating rapidly.

Mom's urgent shout cut through the air as Murphy's condition worsened. "Not now, not now! He's seizing!" she yelled, her voice laced with panic as Murphy's body began to convulse violently.

"Help us please!" I called out desperately to the people surrounding us. "Our friend is dying!"

Mom's voice was tense as she worked on Murphy. "He's not breathing," she mumbled, her hands moving rhythmically as she administered CPR.

A commanding male voice suddenly pierced the tense atmosphere. "Let me pass!" he ordered, making his way through the crowd. "Move them back."

Mom looked up, her expression fierce. "What are you doing?" she hissed, protective and determined. "Do you want him to die?"

The man's response was calm yet firm. "You want my help or not?"

Recognizing the need for professional intervention, I gently pulled my mom away from Murphy, giving the man space to work. She hesitated for a moment before relenting, stepping back with a mix of reluctance and hope. The man knelt beside Murphy and carefully lifted his shirt, revealing the alarming sight of the blackened veins. "He's already dead," he announced, his tone grave.