Speechless

Chapter Eleven

I wake up in a haze; this is like when I used to have to get up and get ready for school and my parents would turn on the light to wake me up. But this was far, far brighter. There's five to six army trucks with their brights on, shining us down like a huge spotlight. Jason sits up right after I do, our legs extended out in front of us and our upper half sitting up. I slowly pull my legs closer to me,letting my legs form a L shape. Jason does the same, and grabs ahold of my hand. "Jason, what's happening?" I ask him. I turn to face Jason, since he didn't answer. His face is pale; even with the blaring lights gazing on us. He squeezes my hand tighter, I can feel his palms getting clammy and come closer to him, "it's okay," I assure him. "I'm gonna stand up and see who they are,"

It was dead silent after that. You could hear a pin drop.

I slowly stand up, hands in the air to show that I don't mean any harm and am not one of The Gone. "Hello," I shout at the trucks. I see no people, it's still pitch black outside. I only see the light and the front of the trucks because of the light. There's one spot of light around where we both were sitting, but I stood up and Jason actually did too. He leaned on me a little, for support. I steadied him and continued talking even though I saw no one except Jason. "I'm Aubrey and this is Jason, we're survivors. Why are you here?" I ask, trying to not let my voice crack. I was hoping that this was another nightmare like the ones with Jim. But this, this felt so much more real. You can't feel anything in a dream, but I assure you, I feel my heart beating faster every second; I feel the fear rising within me like an ember that turned to a blazing fire.

"You're too close to our territory," I hear a voice say. The voice wasn't muffled, it was crystal clear. It didn't sound like from inside of the trucks, it sounded outside and close. Like a ghost I can hear but not see.

"What?" I ask, confused. Their territory? I thought the whole world was officially everyone's battlefield and everyone's graveyard. Maybe I was wrong, or maybe this guy is just full of himself.

"You heard me, you're five miles out from our territory. We saw the fire from our watch tower and noticed you weren't Different. So, we had to inform you that we can't let you come any closer," the man explains. I feel a puzzled look streaming across my face.

"Different?" Is the first question that comes to my mind and out of my mouth.

"Yes," the man begins. "The things walking around eating people. Well, we call them Different. Not dead or anything, because, well," he stutters. He can't fit what he needs to say into words, and I feel like a have a pretty good idea of what he intends on saying. "These things are not dead," he finally spurts out.

"I know," I say.

"What do you mean you know?" He asks back, sounding utterly shocked.

"These things talk to me. Well, maybe I talk to them. I don't know how this works yet. But I know they are not dead and there's a cure. Now what in the hell is going on?" I finally ask. I don't know if I should have kept my secret a secret or my identity hidden, but I figured it couldn't be that bad. I mean, I've survived the end of the world so far, I think I can handle whatever happens next. Certainly with Jason on my side.

"Oh my lord," the man whispers to himself. He steps into the light and he's an older man, probably in his sixties, and has a stubble of grey forming a goatee around his mouth and chin. He has a black leather jacket and a dark green undershirt along with black pants and odd rubbery tennis shoes framing his foot perfectly. "We've been searching for people like you for a long time. We didn't know you even existed," I turn and point to myself, making sure we know who he's talking to. He nods and holds out his hand. "Come with us," he says. I shake my head and find Jason's hand once again, himself slowly not needing to lean on me.

"Who are you people?" I ask.

"Come with us and we can explain this where it's safe. Come along, Aubrey," he says, slowly shaking his hand to make sure I haven't forgotten about it.

"No," I reply. "Who are you?"

"It's not safe, come into the truck and we can show you everything," He says. But I barely allow him to finish his sentence,

"No! I will not even touch you until you explain who you are! And don't you dare tell me it's not safe with your six army trucks here with brights on and six people at least, not including Jason and myself. So you better start explaining, mister," I shout. I never knew I could be that feared and in control, I was usually the one being controlled. I was usually the one that was scared.

The man's eyes grew wide and he drew out a quick breath; I don't look like someone who could shout that loud and demanding. "Well," he starts after a cough to clear his voice. "I'm Dylan, Dylan Morison. And we are the government. I really should say we took over the government, but we are in there place now, I suppose. There's a total of twelve of us. There's six here and six back at the Sanctuary," he explains.

"Why would you take over the government?" I ask. "They can fix this!" I cry. Dylan shakes his head slowly,

"They had no chance to solve this. But us, we have more than a chance than anyone. We actually are as close as we've come yet," he explains. He takes a step toward me and I squeeze Jason's hand a little tighter, but Dylan only extends his hand more. "Let's take you back to Dr.Reynolds and Libby, they can explain more," he assures me. I slowly grab his hand and walk with him to the truck he was driving. I feel the hard expression on my face showing that I can attack him if he makes one suspicious move. But really, I don't think I've been more worried and scared in my life.

Well, I guess that scared feeling is back again. I'm almost glad, being scared feels natural now. I've gotten used to the quick beat of my heart and the sweaty palms.

Dylan opens up the door to the back of his truck and I climb in, not letting go of Jason's hand so he has to come with me. I don't know if they had only planned on bringing only me or both of us, but I would not let them make that choice. Jason was coming too, no matter what they wanted. But luckily, the made no fuss when Jason climbed into the truck too. Dylan slammed the door and it was as dark in the truck as it was outside before the trucks showed up. There was a wall separating the back of the truck and the front where Dylan is driving. About seventy five percent of the truck is the back, just an open are with not seats or anything but us inside. It's a dark, empty room with two quiet and slow breathing bodies.

I feel the vibration of the truck when Dylan starts it and I sit down, resting my back against the wall and letting my legs spread across the floor in front of me. Jason does the same and I feel the truck turning around and heading toward what Dylan called the "Sanctuary." I close my eyes and can't believe I'm still holding onto the possibility of this being a dream. But I then feel Jason's hand on my leg and open my eyes, to only still see pure blackness. "Please tell me you remembered the bag," I say to Jason. I feel the ruffle of the bag and give a sigh of relief. "Mind handing me that lighter?" I ask. I hear Jason unzip the bag and then feel the cold metal of the lighter in my hand. I open the top of the lighter and light it, now making us able to see throughout the back of the truck. "Do you think we did the right thing? Coming with them?" I ask Jason. I hold the lighter in between us, hovering in the air out a little in front of me, and Jason and I looking right at each other.

"Yeah," he replies. "I do. We have a better chance trusting them than the chance of our survival out there much longer." I nod in agreement and grab Jason's hand from my leg, letting our fingers intertwine.

"Jason," I start. "I'm scared,"

"I know," he says in return. "You always are. But being scared is being cautious, and being cautious can save your life,"

I really think about that: maybe the reason I've survived this long is not because of strength, being bloodthirsty, being a good hunter, or being fast. But it's because I'm scared.

I feel the truck come to an abrupt halt and I put the lighter out and hand it to Jason, who places it back in the bag and zips it shut afterwards. I stand up and Jason does so too. Jason then gives me a quick kiss on the forehead then whispers, "we can make it," and then Dylan opens up the door and we slowly emerge from the truck.

We walk toward the building and it's huge. But Jason and I have no idea what awaits inside.

Well, it's not that bad, I suppose,

Because we have no idea what awaits outside, either.