Saving Chloe

Chapter Seven

During my plane crash, my vision came and went in what reminded me of movie stills. This happened to me again. One: I'm backing away from the Invader, who's giving me this impish and nauseating smile; but there's something off about his eyes, as if he's trying to hide some sort of fear. Black. Two: bullets bounce off his body and fall to the floor. Black. Three: Calen's face inches closer to mine, one hand tightens around my left arm. Black. Four: the Invader running backwards towards the surrounding trees. Black. Five: Calen still shooting after him. Black. Six: Calen pulling me in the opposite direction. Black. Seven: rain pouring. Black. Eight: Calen trying to get me to run, but my legs are all wobbly and can barely hold me up. Black. Nine: Calen's carrying me. Black. Ten: my head wobbles, my vision's blurry, but we're passing houses on our way back home. I think. Black. Eleven: Calen's dropping me down on the curb. Black. Twelve: his arms pull me in closer and my face buries into his chest as my body continues to shake violently. Black. Black. Black.

I don't know how long we sit here just like this. Vulnerable. But finally I find my bearings and pull back. "Calen, I-"

"Let's just get home, Alessa," he interrupts. My eyes glance to the left, where the sun is now setting. Almost clearly out of view. We're out of time. We're nowhere near home. In fact, I'm not even sure where we're at. "We're lost."

"What?"

"I wanted to take a short cut, one I'd taken a lot of times in the past but somehow I managed to get us lost."

"Which means...?"

"We're going to have to find our own shelter near here and fast."

"I can help with that." The voice shakes us both, giving us only a few seconds to pull our guns and aim them both at the strangers face. Except he isn't a stranger. I mean, I've never seen him in person before. But that voice? I know that voice. I listen to that voice on a daily basis. My smile comes all too quickly as I drop my gun, which is still on lock so it wouldn't have done any good to shoot anyway. And I think I was aiming at myself, nonetheless. Calen makes a weird noise before shaking his head.

"One is happy to see me, the other wishes I were one of the Crazies instead. How entertaining." There's a hint of a smile on his face. He's a lot older than I pictured him, scruffier, and definitely more unattractive than I imagined. "You two look as if you've seen a ghost, and I should like you to enlighten me on your experiences."

"Of course you would," Calen mutters, lowering his weapon.

"As it would appear to be, you two need my assistance." His smile grows a little bit bigger. "And I merely ask for your story in payment."

"Deal," I reply before Calen can tell Martin exactly where he can 'shove it.' Best to just accept Martin's help while it's still being offered. And what the hell, maybe he had more information than he led us to believe by listening to him over the radio.

"Follow me then." Martin turns on his heels and starts leading the way, Calen gives me a look which means This-Guy-Is-A-Freak-And-I-Predicted-It-Already. But there's something missing. Calen beats me to the question.

"Don't you have a weapon?"

Shrugging, Martin replies, "No need."

"How do you know we're not Crazies?"

Martin doesn't look back, just keeps walking at a brusque pace. "I just know." He shrugs. "I've been following you two."

"So did you...?" I start but don't finish. Calen shakes his head, struggling to help me keep up with Martin. But Martin doesn't reply to my question. In fact, he doesn't say anything until we reach his "lair."