Invasive Species

David sat motionless against the door, staring into the darkness and listening to the muffled buzzing of wings behind them. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, or how much longer he intended to stay, but figured he would wait until the stench of vaporized blood left his nostrils.

When Dalton slipped through his hands and fell into the beasts gaping maw, what he witnessed was unreal. In the blink of an eye, Dalton went from a fully formed, living human being, to what seemed like a blood-filled water balloon dropped into a spinning blender.

At least it was quick, David thought.

David had stood on that precipice for what seemed like an eternity before someone, probably Tamsyn, lifted him and dragged him into the tunnel before closing the emergency hatch. The rest of the group seemed to have grown cold to the multiple deaths they had seen, and were ready to move on, but were respectful of their de facto leader’s need for a moment of silence and rest.

His mind was a blank slate. A hissing static in his mind’s ears and eyes, until Tamsyn slid against the door and sat next to him.

“Are you going to be okay?”

The blank slate was suddenly filled with anger and frustration as he turned towards her with a disgusted look. “What the hell are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t believe you’re human. I tried to ignore it, but I’ve seen way too much to believe you’re like us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, turning away from him. Her gaze fell on the rest of the team who were piecing together what David was saying, and the accusation in their eyes was increasing. She stared at the floor instead.

“The way you seemed to know your friend was in danger before we even got there. Your inhuman reflexes. That one in a million shot when you jumped to the rail without seeing it. I swear on everything you controlled the fall of that container. These aren’t just genetic mods, you’ve got some sort of power. So, what are you?”

Tamsyn slowly lifted her stare to David.

“I’m human. I had a human mother, and a human father. I don’t know where I got the powers, but I’m still human.”

“What are they? What can you do?” David demanded.

A haunted expression washed over her face as she glanced at the others and back to David, before returning her gaze awkwardly to her feet. “Telekinesis, increased strength and reflexes. I can sense things, especially living things. Genetic memory.”

“Is that why you knew about the man who jumped into the conduit?”

She nodded her head. “I think my parents witnessed it. That’s why I travel so much. Anytime I go somewhere they’ve been, I get to experience their most intense memories, firsthand.”

“What else?”

Tamsyn hesitated again.

“I’m an empath…” She looked at him and could tell by his eyes there was one power he was particularly interested in. She wouldn’t earn his trust back if she denied it. “And sometimes, I can see the future.”

David looked away. “Did you know this all was going to happen? That Dan and Dalton would die?”

“It doesn’t work like that, David.” Premonitions come to me like a dream. Metaphorical images so cryptic, sometimes I don’t realize what they mean till the event already happened. And even when it’s clear, it’s only the most likely of millions of possible futures.”

“What about Terry?”

Her discomfort and embarrassment gave way to suppressed anger. David was walking on thin ice, but he didn’t back down. “I knew he was in trouble because I sensed his fear. I didn’t know he was going to die till the power went out. Now, if we’re done with the questions, we should get a move on.”

David watched her get up and walk away, then turned his gaze to the others. Most of them seemed to be unsure how to react. A feeling he shared, but it was the look on Maria’s face that took him by surprise. It was cold and distant, but the fear and anxiety had fallen away in favor of determination and anger.

He thought back, and realized for the first time that Maria and Dalton had a developing romance. They had hidden it well. Stolen glances, the lingering eye contact. But now, it was as clear as day to David. That quiet determined fire in her eyes was one he had seen in the mirror many times. It was a fuming, directionless anger that came when you’ve lost someone you care about to unnatural circumstances.

It was then that he realized, he understood what Tamsyn meant about not seeing the whole picture until it’s too late. For a moment he pitied her, but he knew that it was a morbid blessing for her. Fear and anxiety had made her vulnerable. Dalton had given her the gift of strength and determination. Though it carried its own risks, like the dangerous compulsion toward heroics, her chances of survival had increased substantially.

David suddenly regretted his decision to destroy the image on his wrist comp, but tried to re-form the image in his head, and call on the strength of that anger. He got to his feet so suddenly that everyone jumped. “Let’s go,” he said as he stomped past them.

Tamsyn was already 20 yards ahead, and seemed to know where she was going, so David kept a respectful distance. To his surprise, it was Maria who matched his pace. He watched her face for a moment, seeing the focus that hadn’t faltered in the slightest.

“Are you going to be alright?”

She sucked in her lower lip, clamping it between her teeth in concentration. “Are any of us?”

“I guess not. I just mean…”

Her composure faltered ever so slightly. “Was it that obvious?”

“Sorry. Not until just now, but yeah.”

She cracked a small smile. “Yes. But it doesn’t matter now.”

“No. I guess not.”

“Is it odd that I suddenly feel better?” Maria unexpectedly asked.

David had an unexpected answer of his own. “In a way, I get it.”

“I guess I just finally realized there’s nothing more to lose.”

The group turned a corner, keeping pace behind Tamsyn, as if she was the torchbearer now. David kept the conversation going, knowing that Maria needed the direction and focus.

“Did he really mean that much to you?”

“That’s not what I mean. None of us made it out of that loading bay alive. Some of us may still survive this, but none of us will be the same.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“We already lost everything we had. Living to see another day is just a bonus.”

“Could you guys be any more depressing,” Mandy chimed in from behind them. Glancing back David could tell that they were still fairly collected. He got the impression that they were used to danger, and perhaps even enjoyed it. A chill went down his spine as he realized that he may be looking at his own future, assuming he made it off the station.

Tamsyn stopped abruptly at a curved bulkhead. The faint outline of the door was almost imperceptible, but a kick from Tamsyn’s boot echoed through the empty corridor behind, confirming that they were at the right spot.

“Might want to shield your eyes,” she said as she got into position and took out her pistol. With a steady hand, she pulled the trigger and guided the beam with such precision that the resulting cut appeared to be done by machine.

As she finished, the cut out door fell with a loud, low ring. David couldn’t help but think of how the sound resembled old church bells. A death toll. He looked in both directions, and held his breath to listen for the ticking of spider legs or the slick wet sound of the slugs advancing on them. The dark stretches of hall showed no sign of movement. Quiet as a cemetary, and just as lifeless. When he stopped imagining an army of beasts coming to devour them, he let out a long sigh and stepped through the hole.

One by one, the others followed. David was surprised that the air was not as stale as he expected. Over 20 years of being sealed off from the rest of the station should have kept it from circulating. Something about this made him uneasy. Confined by inexplicable dread. But, he had no room for it. Worry and fear had become constant companions, permanent software in his brain. He was at capacity for thinking about everything that was wrong with this place he once thought of as home.

Before he could continue his thought, they arrived at the cylindrical room that the conduit ran through. At the end of the corridor was a guard rail, directly across from the ladder running down the side of the conduit. To the right was a gap in the railing where the bridge to the conduit could be activated. Sam leaned gingerly over the rail and looked down into the abyss before letting out a slow whistle. “Long way down. How we get across?”

“There’s usually a bridge,” David replied, “but with no power, we will have to jump.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Tamsyn got a running start and jumped the gap at an angle, landing securely on the catwalk that wrapped the conduit. Mandy followed, then David. Sam came next and shook the catwalk when he landed, to the extent that David feared it would collapse. Maria was last to jump. Her short legs made bridging the gap especially difficult, causing her to land on the front of her feet.

David grasped her arm and pulled her forward, keeping her from tumbling into the void.

They filed down the ladder till reaching their level, and jumped back to the outer catwalk. “How much farther till we reach the docking bay,” Sam asked, walking backwards down the corridor.

“Another couple miles or so. We’ll probably take another rest once we’re away from the—”

It had taken a moment for David to register that something was off. From the end of the corridor, which should have been sealed off, a faint red light was washing over Sam’s back. It was interrupted only a tangle of black lines. Thick strands. A web made by the galaxy’s most disorganized spider. His eyes adjusted. The shapes became more clear. It wasn’t a web. It was the legs of a giant insect.

By the time David pieced it together, it was too late. Sam’s face went slack. Every muscle in his body seemed to pulsate to the rhythm of the clicking. He collapsed in a heap.

By the flashes of light, they could see that the corridor was filled with hundreds of adult Mandallums, their glossy skin shining brilliantly in the fleeting light of plasma bolts. Unyielding darkness against a wall of light. A futile last stand. David knew it. So did everyone else. But, they just kept firing. The faceless monsters were packed so tightly together that the shots didn’t even knock them back. The tide of legs and teeth would soon take them all. But, not without a fight.

One of the weapons stopped firing. Then hit the floor. David saw the glint of steel out of the corner of his eye. Maria had swiped the combat knife from Mandy’s belt. “Everyone down!” she yelled as she sliced the palm of her hand. They did as they were asked. Maria dropped the knife and bolted towards the conduit. Placing one hand on the railing, she hurled herself over and into the abyss.

David tucked himself against the base of the wall, covering his head as the Mandallums stampeded past. The tapping of legs against the metal path was a deafening roar, like millions of rocks in a clothes dryer. Maria’s gamble had paid off. They paid no mind to the rest of them when freshly wounded prey was falling down the chasm.

The last of the creatures crawled past and flew down after her, leaving the corridor silent, and a ringing in David’s ears. He pushed himself up . Mandy picked up the knife and re-sheathed it, then walked over to Sam’s body. “He’s conscious, but it doesn’t look like he can move under his own power yet.”

“We need to get out of here and into shelter till he recovers,” David replied. He cringed as he saw the expression on Sam’s face. It was an unpleasant experience when David was hit by the barbs, but it looked like Sam got the full power of the paralyzing attack.

“I’ll help him up,” Mandy said. David shined the light down the corridor and saw that the floor was covered in small purple gelatin like balls. Eggs, he thought. We’re running out of time. He turned back to Mandy, and found the image of Atlas: Sam’s gargantuan form was resting on her shoulder. “Let’s go before they come back.”

As he walked down the corridor he squashed as many eggs as he could. The others did the same without question. Slipping through the chewed hole at the end, they resumed their journey. David’s mind wandered. Searching for an unlocked storefront, he felt like he was searching for something else.

Himself. The lost piece of his soul. The part of him that should have been devastated by Maria’s loss. It could have been exhaustion. But, it felt deeper. Numbness. Callus on his heart. The part of him that felt loss was all used up.