The Day They Came (WATTY AWARDS 2016)

Chapter 19

Xyzle paced the room. Claire passed out five hours ago. His father had acted before the police team had been able to get through the glass. Now, he, Claire, and Peter were all prisoners.

Not only that, but his father had put them on a course towards Mykalea – their home planet. He had plans to kill Peter, Claire, and one of the leaders, a woman named Christine. The final one would get a peaceful, easy death. The original two prisoners, not so much.

As for himself, his father planned to keep him locked away until Earth was part of the Mykalean Empire. Then, he would have no reason to continue to rebel. Or, at least, that's what his father thought.

His father was dead wrong.

Claire moaned, distracting him from his thoughts. Though he was thankful for the distraction, it meant she was waking up. He had nothing to give her for the pain she'd be in, nor to change the dressing on her wound with.

He turned to face her. Her bright blue eyes were open, but the wonderful light he came to love had dimmed with pain.

"I know it hurts." He sat beside her, taking one of her hands in his. "I have nothing I can give you to help with that." She looked up at his face, biting her lip as she tried to swallow the pain. "My father has locked us in one of the good prison cells, like the one you stayed in earlier."

She nodded slowly, as if she were trying to come to grips with it. Then, her eyes drifted to the window.

The view had changed in the five hours she had been out. Instead of being able to look at the beautiful greenery on Earth, they were now looking at stars and planets and suns.

"Wh-Where are we?" Even her voice conveyed her pain. It made him wince. How could his father do such a thing to her?

"Somewhere beyond the Milky Way galaxy. Beyond that, I couldn't tell you. I do not know the stars as well as I probably should." His free hand caressed her cheek lightly as he spoke. "Father is taking us to Mykalea, my home planet."

She laughed a little, but he could see a look of instant regret on her face. He smiled lightly down at her, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

"I know. It hurt. Shh. You simply relax. That's all I need of you. That's all you should require of yourself at the moment." He tried to make her feel better about getting shot. "I wish there was more I could do for you." He kissed her cheek lightly.

"Tell me...about Mykalea..." It took her a moment to formulate her request. When the final words came out, he smiled a little, and leaned against the wall.

"Mykalea...it's an interesting place for someone like you. You know how a Venus flytrap works?" He responded with his own question.

She managed a small nod.

"Eats flies. Closes when a fly...lands and touches...the trigger hairs...twice." She managed to sum up what a Venus flytrap does.

"We have large plants like your Venus flytrap, like your pitcher plants, and the other carnivorous plants on Earth. Except...they are ten to twenty times bigger. They can easily swallow a Mykalean." He sighed. "Even the ground is not safe. We must always be vigilant. There are large beasts – metallic, like me. Not even my father knows all the dangers of the planet." Now he looked down at her. "Even the plants are metallic. It's kind of cool, after seeing how plants look on Earth."

She smiled, and closed her eyes. If she was trying to imagine what their planet looked like, she had a lot to look at. To imagine. It was difficult to imagine, even though it was his home planet.

If he focused carefully, he saw the kind of animal that almost killed him a few years ago. The four large paws made a metallic clink-click-clank on the ground as it ran. The iron color of its metal husk shone greatly in the sunlight, looking almost purple instead of grey.

Instead of a growl, the animal shared a low hum. The hum grew in intensity until it was almost a deafening experience. That growl signified that it was getting ready to strike. It acted as a sign that anything in its way could be next.

Xyzle had not acted in time. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, his head ringing. The animal growled a second time, this time a loud screech coming from its throat.

The image of the screeching animal over him, and being able to see down into its throat, would haunt him forever.

He shook the thought away as Claire opened her eyes.

"Food?" She managed to ask for something to eat in a single word. It made him chuckle a little. However, the reality of the situation returned to him.

"I don't know. I can try." He gently removed his hand from hers. Then, he got off the metal bunk and placed his hand on the wall. He pulled a good sized chunk of metal off the wall – leaving a dent – before making a railing on the bed so she wouldn't fall off.

"Don't be...gone long..." Every breath she took sounded labored, and making the effort to talk must have been exhausting. He simply nodded, and then leaned down and kissed her cheek.

After he pulled away, he walked towards the door. The intercom system was still up, and his father had promised to answer any calls since Claire had been injured. Of course, it was his father that injured her.

He entered his father's room code, 1-8-9-9-0-0. Then he pressed the call button, and let the intercom ring.

It rang, and rang.

Before it could hang up, his father finally answered.

"Yes, Xyzle?" He sounded a little irritated.

"Claire is awake. Could we have some pain medications and food?" Xyzle kept his tone calm, and sentences short.

"I will send them down shortly." Then his father hung up, and the call ended.

Turning on his heel, he noticed something. For the first time in years, he felt rebellious. He felt something akin to rage, in human terms. The reasons for this new feeling burning deep inside him did not come to mind easily.

Shaking the thought away, he saw that Claire had drifted off to sleep. Her body needed the rest, so he decided not to disrupt her nap. Instead, he simply sat on the floor.

The fire of rebellion welled up again as he sat in silence. Whatever triggered this change must've been a large change in his mind, his heart, and his attitudes. The only event he could think of that even came close to that magnitude was...meeting Claire.

With that realization, he turned to look at her. Her chest moved up and down with each inhale and exhale she took. Her bright blue eyes hid under pale eyelids, accented by mid-length, dark brown eyelashes. Her cheeks had this natural tint that required no touch ups. Due to a lack of being able to wash her hair, it began to frizz in a lot of places. This caused the beautiful braid – he had finally learnt what it was called – that she had created to have frizzy fly a ways that did her no justice.

Traces of makeup remained on her face; she must've been wearing some the day before for work. Her eyeliner winged out at the sides, her right eye covered with a slightly darker and thicker line. Her skill showed.

Her shirt was torn up at the bottom – pieces were hanging by a single strip of fabric in some places. Dark red stains showed the blood splatter pattern of the shot. Her left hand rested over her wound, as if to apply pressure, yet it did not press down on the wound. Both of her hands were covered in dried blood.

Some of the blood had even spilled onto her pants. The denim fabric had absorbed quite a bit of blood, and he could see the darkest places near the wound from where he sat. The cuffs of her jeans wore ragged from being walked on repeatedly.

Yet, through all of this, she looked beautiful to him. Even when her face contorted in pain, when she seemed to be on the edge, he could find a way to make her smile. In the quiet moments on Anna's couch as they watched a movie, it had happened. It happened here on the ship, too.

Maybe love really did exist.