Intergalactic Outlaws

Chapter Two - Before

The sun rose at four in the morning, chasing away the night-time chill we were graced in the middle of summer. The chill was still in the air at six am, as I trotted down the stairs into the Perth Underground. It was busier than I expected it to be, people milling about everywhere, especially on a Sunday.

I hadn't made it home yet. The night before, I'd crashed at Ace's place after we'd stayed up most of the night together. His alarm had woken us both up at sparrow-fart in the morning. I had rolled out of his arms just far enough to reach his phone and turn off the ringing before tucking myself back against his comfortable body heat.

"Hmm," he pressed his nose against my neck, "time to get up."

"No," I mumbled, running my fingers through his soft hair, "sleep in."

"I can't," he sighed, "my parents..."

"I know, I know," I smiled, pressing a kiss on the top of his head, "I'll be out of your way in a minute."

"Hey." He raised his head to look at me, "Don't say it like that. I did offer for you to meet them."

"Yeah. I don't think they'll appreciate that your new girlfriend is of the working-class variety. And from Queensland! I'll never understand this disregard you Westerner's have for us," I told him, climbing out of bed.

He just grinned and shook his head, not rising to the bait, "You're imagining this feud. Plus, my parents would love you. You could service their car for free."

"Whatever."

---

The train wasn't scheduled to leave for another five minutes when I arrived at the platform, but it was already there, waiting for passengers. I claimed a backwards facing seat and pulled out my phone to put on my podcast.

I was so involved with the podcast that I didn't even notice the people filing into the train or it start moving. I just put my head back, closed my eyes and wished I was back with Ace.

The first time my podcast was interrupted, it was with a ping to notify me of a new text message. Ace had sent me a message, telling me he missed me already and perhaps he could come out and visit me that night. The second time, there was no ping, but I looked down at my screen anyway. Expecting to see a message from Ace, I was stunned to find another message of a different kind.

A moment of confusion had me staring at my screen for a minute, blankly, before comprehension sunk in. Icicles of fear wrapped themselves around my heart and I jumped up, ready to run.

I found however, that I wasn't in immediate danger. The train was stopped with the lights shut off, every passenger looking around in confusion. People stated pulling out their phones, only to look confused further. There, on the screen that usually read the station name, read the same message that I'd found on my phone, and I would have bet everybody else had on their phones.

We know you are hiding here.

It filled my phone screen in lines and lines. It was scrolling across the train's screen slowly. It was taunting me.

I looked out the window of the train, cars were filling the street, still and dead, as the drivers and passengers got out and looked around in confusion.

How far did it extend?

Maybe just the block? Were they right on top of me?

I needed to get out of the train if that were the case. I wasn't going to go quietly, and I didn't want to bring down all these humans with me. I shoved my phone in my pocket and made my way to the doors, pushing my way through the groups of people who had begun to gather there. I pressed the button beside the door but, of course, that achieved nothing.

Everybody was beginning to grow restless. Nobody wanted to be locked in a train carriage at six in the morning on a Sunday. More so, with a threatening message haunting them.

"What is going on?" Somebody asked, "What is this?"

"God knows," someone else responded, sounding bewildered.

"Somebody knows."

"It's just a stupid prank. Some teen getting his kicks," I told them over my shoulder as I tried to pry the doors open.

"I bet it's terrorist," the first voice said.

The train fell eerily quiet. I turned and tried to locate the one trying to fear-monger. Making people panic was never a good idea.

"Terrorist?" A small voice asked, I located a teenage boy in the crowd, looking anxious, "Are we going to die."

"It's not terrorist."

As these words were said, they were punctuated with the lights coming back on the train slowly moving forward. The jolt had people scrambling to grab things to steady themselves. Once everybody was righted, nobody moved, we all stood there standing staring at each other.

"See," I told them easily though the fear in my heart did not lessen, "not terrorist."

No. It was my people.

And that was a million times worse.