Show No Fear
Contents
Xander
Chapter One
Xander
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Xander
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
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Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
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Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
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Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
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Chapter Thirty-Six
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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
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Chapter Thirty-Nine
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Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
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Chapter Forty-Two
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Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
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Epilogue
Xander
Xander nervously tapped the steering wheel as he waited near Douglass Park. Less than twenty-four hours ago he was contacted by someone with the screen name ETFinder who claimed he could find the things who took Sydney. Now he was waiting on the side of the road, fully expecting to be ambushed any minute. The one thing he didn’t know was who would be coming for him. Cops? Aliens? Vampires or werewolves? Who the hell knows at this point, he thought, feeling agitated and twitchy.
Movement to his left caused him to go still. At first, he thought it was just a shadow, or, maybe a tree or bush blowing in the wind. But when someone stepped out of the darkness it made his hackles rise, so to speak. The person was walking towards Xander’s truck but he couldn’t tell much about them because they were wearing a hood pulled low over their face. He guessed they were male by their build and the way they walked, but he had learned enough in the past couple of weeks not to assume anything.
Xander told himself not to get excited, he was in Douglass Park at night. There could be any number of reasons why someone was walking around, and few of them were good, wholesome reasons. The figure continued to draw closer, but, since he was on the opposite side of the street, Xander didn’t even know if he was coming to him or simply walking by. The guy’s jacket was dark, probably black, and he was wearing normal jeans and boots. He drew even with the truck and appeared to be passing it when he abruptly changed directions and cut across the street, making a direct line to and behind the truck.
Xander tensed and watched the figure in the rearview mirror. He lost sight of the guy in the blind spot but jumped when the hooded face appeared at the passenger side door. The guy jerked the door handle but when he found it locked he rapped his knuckles against the window. It was too dark to get a good look at his face under the hood, but Xander could see his shadowed lower jaw and the tip of his nose--enough to confirm his suspicion that the person was male. He swallowed and let out the breath he had been holding.
Xander made it a point to move slowly. He knew nothing about the mysterious man, but he knew it was important to make sure he didn't show any nerves or fear. He didn’t want this stranger to have the upper hand. He didn’t like not knowing whose directions he had been following when he drove to the park at the predetermined time. It put him at a distinct disadvantage. His cracked collar bone only complicated matters. It was on its way to being healed, but it was still sore. He didn’t wear his sling to avoid drawing attention to his injury. He was taking a risk by being here at all, but even the slight possibility ETFinder would help him locate Sydney was worth it.
The overhead light didn’t come on when Xander opened the door—but it worked, all the parts of his truck worked, despite what it looked like. He had a habit of keeping the light off. He never did like advertising his comings and goings with a spotlight. He scowled when the man jerked the door the rest of the way open and slid inside. “Drive,” he ordered.
Xander’s scowl deepened. “Who the hell are you?” he asked, making no move to start the truck. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of body odor. It had clearly been a while since he’d had a shower.
The guy pulled the hood off his face as he turned toward Xander. “Just call me ET. Drive.” His voice, heavy with an accent, showed desperation around the edges now.
ET was younger than Xander had expected. If Xander guessed, he would put him close to eighteen. The kid wore thick glasses, not the kind that had become so ridiculously popular with hipsters recently, but real ones that made his heavily lidded eyes appear even larger than they were. While Xander had, initially, wanted to roll his eyes at the nickname, he began to wonder if the kid had been dubbed ET well before aliens invaded. The shake of the kid’s hands, his age, and his almost comical glasses overrode any advantage he had over Xander. He was no longer any more intimidated than a lion would be by a zebra. But, he was still careful to not show how much his shoulder was hurting. “Not until you tell me where we are going,” he told ET.
“Anywhere!” the kid snapped without meeting his eye. “Just drive. I don’t like staying in one place for too long. Not out in the open like this.” He mumbled and spoke in loud whispers which made it hard to identify where he was from.
Finally, Xander nodded and started the truck. It turned over immediately. He glanced at the kid as he pulled away from the curb. ET was checking the shadows and the road behind them, clearly nervous and paranoid. He headed south, toward the Cook County jail. There weren’t a lot of people out on the street, and the ones that were, watched the truck with interest and Xander avoided making eye contact. No reason to make anyone think I’m looking to make a transaction.
When they had driven a few blocks, ET finally spoke. “Why are you looking for them?”
“Who?” Xander played coy.
ET gave him an impatient glance. “You know who.”
“Maybe.”
“You do,” his voice was hollow.
“How do you know about them?” Xander asked. They didn’t need specifics to know who they were each talking about. Something as improbable and crazy as aliens didn’t need to be named. Not real aliens. Not the real possibility of an invasion. Those things were spoken about in euphemisms and hints. Codes and gestures. That was the only way it could be discussed without sending their minds into a tailspin.
The kid chose a roundabout path to answer the question. “You know about the doctor?”
ET brushed at his shaggy black hair and when a street light washed across his skin, Xander realized he was of Latin heritage. That explained the accent. At first, Xander thought the streetlight was fading his skin, turning the caramel color to a pasty beige, but a longer glance made him realize it wasn't the light. The kid was pale. He looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in years. Or, Xander reasoned, he could
be sick. Unconsciously, he began to take shallower breaths. “I think I do. Does he have a habit of kidnapping people? And cutting the heads off others?”
Xander could see the kid swallow hard before answering. “Yes. That is him.”
“Who the fuck is he?” Xander’s fist tightened on the steering wheel.
“I don’t know his first name. I’ve just heard him called Doc, Robards, or Dr. Robards.”
Such an ordinary name seemed ludicrous for someone who Xander had seen decapitate a person. “So, he’s an actual doctor? Of what?”
“I'm not completely sure,” ET admitted.
“What does he have to do with them?”
“I think he is making them somehow.”
“What?”
“I know. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. But I think he’s the one who is...I don’t know...making them.”
“Then they aren’t…”
“No. They are.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Look,” ET grew agitated. “He came to a dig in Colombia. And after he got there, people started dying.”
“How do you know?” Xander had a suspicion, but it seemed unlikely. No matter how crazy life got--some logic had to prevail. Wrong, he shook his head when ET answered.
“I was there.”
“You were the blogger, weren’t you?”
“You saw my blog?” the kid was surprised and maybe a little proud.
“Someone found it. Showed it to me. We were looking for answers.”
“It just caused more questions. Didn’t it.” ET sounded defeated now.
“Pretty much.”
“I had to leave suddenly. So I wasn’t able to finish it.”
“What happened?”
“After Robards showed up, he and the first doctor started working alone. It was like they forgot about the dig. Started working on their own project and just...abandoned the dig.”
“Why were you there?”
“Manual labor. And translator. My dad was an accountant for a local...businessman. When the archaeologists started digging I was hanging around. It was cool. Exciting, you know?” The kid’s voice trailed off. He shook his head before continuing. “I was useful and cheaper than a professional. They let me do odd jobs. The university people thought I was stupid. They thought all the locals were dumb.”
When ET got quiet Xander let him have a few moments. Whatever had happened on the dig was bad. He continued to drive aimlessly but he wanted to hurry the kid up. His impatience wouldn’t make ET comfortable enough to talk faster so he held his tongue. Finally, ET continued.
“Doc killed my dad. He killed a lot of people. But my dad was one of them.”
Xander closed his eyes for a moment but he didn’t say he was sorry. The kid didn’t need to hear it. Sorry didn’t make it better. “How?”
“He put one of them in him. I think it killed him.”
Pieces began falling into place and instead of making Xander feel better, it was making him feel worse. If the things killed the people they were inside, why wasn’t Sydney dead yet? Or, is she dead already? Xander flinched and pushed the thought away. “What happens to the things he puts inside people?”
“The ones I've seen? They die.”
Chapter One
The first thing Sydney became aware of was the cold. Soaking into her bones, it made them ache. She could smell dirt and mud and vegetation. But, other than a slow, steady drip, the world was silent. As she regained consciousness her body kicked into survival mode and began shivering. Her eyes felt like they were glued shut and it took a surprising amount of energy to open them—which she immediately regretted as light sliced through her skull. She felt like her head was full of broken glass and every thought, sound, and movement caused the shards to shift and cut into her brain.
A thin whimper startled her until she realized it was slipping from between her own lips. Her breathing became heavy as she realized something was very, very wrong. She wasn't in a safe, comfortable bed. She was cold, and scared. Opening her eyes again, slowly this time, she gave herself time to adjust to the light. Blinking back tears, the technicolor flashes subsided until she saw blurs of white, brown and some green. Something round, with a fluttering light zipped past her peripheral vision. A few more blinks and the scene came into focus as snow mixed with dead leaves and twigs.
Her teeth chattered, exacerbating the crushing pain in her skull. Her whimpering turned to moaning and she drew her body into a ball as tight as she could and tried to think beyond the pain and confusion. Where am I? What happened? Her inability to remember anything caused her heart to jackhammer against her ribs and left her gulping for air. Her shock was turning to panic and her flight response kicked in. Move! You gotta move!
Sydney shifted her weight forward, pushing off the ground, but her arms were so weak she couldn’t even lift her head. Her moaning turned to mewling as she struggled to rise. Everything turned blurry as her head swam and her stomach heaved. She dug her fingernails into the dirt and a new pain was added to her aches. Her fingertips felt like they were on fire. She bit back a scream and pushed against the ground again. Defying her own expectations she made it to her hands and knees and she wobbled there like a newborn foal trying to find its balance. Her stomach recoiled and her whole body lurched violently as she vomited.
A guttural moan accompanied the splat of black, tar-like puke between her hands. When she saw what came out of her, she finally lost it. She might not remember the last thing she ate but whatever she had just thrown up didn’t look like food. Her mouth tasted like burnt rubber and the smell was chemical and acidic. She let her weight fall back until she was kneeling and she covered her mouth with her hands, staring in horror at the black mar on the patch of snow.
Sydney began rocking back and forth letting her fingers run through her hair. She took deep breaths trying to calm herself, knowing that panic was only going to make it harder to think. She when the stinging in her fingers became unbearable she tucked her hands into her armpits. What happened? What happened? What happened? The chanted question flashed through her brain and she used it as a mantra trying to block out the pain lingering nausea. What happened? What happened? What happened? What happened?
Xander! The name pushed through her chanting. Xander. Shay. At first the names were nothing more than sounds.
“Xander. Shay.” Her voice cracked in the silence, startling her. Saying the names out loud made them more real. She tried again. “Xander. Shay.” Is my name Shay? she wondered. A rustling sound caused her to jump, momentarily forgetting the faceless names. Feeling exposed and vulnerable she surveyed her surroundings as fast as her throbbing head would allow her. Her vision lagged behind her brain and the sensation was disorienting. She lost her balance and nearly fell into the black vomit but managed to catch herself. She heard more rustling and the swish of brush and bushes as a small animal darted away from her. She let go of the breath she had been holding but didn’t relax. The rabbit or squirrel was a reminder she needed to get out of here. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to be found…by what? Who?
She lurched to her feet, stumbled and caught herself against the trunk of a nearby tree. She was in a sparse forest with trees that were spread far enough apart that she couldn’t rely on them to help her stay on her feet. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself upright and planted her feet. The whole world swayed and she tried to focus on a bush in front of her, waiting for everything to stop spinning. Her head hurt so badly her teeth throbbed with every heartbeat.
She took another deep breath and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth. Her shivering made it harder to stay on her feet. She was wearing a dirty tee shirt, jeans, and damp sneakers. She had no coat, no gloves, and no hat. Being completely unprepared for the weather only added to her conviction that something terrible must have happened to her. Nothing seemed to hurt other than her fingers and head—and that pain was a radiating throb, not centered in any one spot so she didn’t thi
nk she had a head injury. She had no idea what frostbite felt like, but was sure her burning fingers were a good indicator.
Sydney cautiously flexed her arms and legs. Nothing seemed broken. The only reason she was having a hard time standing was the blurred vision and migraine. She took a tentative step forward and was mildly relieved when she didn’t fall on her face. Another step and she began to breathe a little easier. But only until she realized she had no idea which direction to go. She raised her head and surveyed her surroundings again. An orange glow in the horizon and the retreating darkness indicated morning but she couldn’t see any buildings in the distance. She listened intently but the small creature was apparently the last living thing in the vicinity besides herself.
The woods were unsettlingly quiet for this early in the morning. A reasonable voice in the back of her head told her that wandering through the woods with no sense of direction was a terrible idea, but the nagging need to run pushed her forward. Move! it told her. They could come back any minute! Who? she wondered. Icy mud seeped into her shoes making them squish and she couldn’t feel her toes or fingers anymore. Does frostbite go numb after a while? At the very least maybe walking will help me warm up, she thought.
“Xander,” she tried the name again. It seemed so familiar and the frustration of not being able to put a face or meaning to the name caused anger to join her fear and confusion. “Shay.” She grumbled and winced. Sound made her head hurt worse.
Sydney began concentrating on just walking. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. She moved through the trees and bushes until something caused her to stop. At first she wasn’t sure what triggered her alarm but then she realized it was a strange smell. The wind picked up and she gasped at the cold burst against her face and arms. After recovering from the shock of the icy blast she tilted her head and took a deep breath. Something smelled burnt. She wondered for a moment if she had walked in a circle and had come back to her vomit, but she realized the smell was different. It was more organic—less chemical.
She continued walking forward hoping to find a cabin with a fire and someone who would let her use their phone. Like an animal, she followed her nose, sniffing the air and trying to judge which direction the scent was coming from. In her desperate hurry she tripped several times and almost fell but determination kept her on her feet. Her head continued to throb and each time she stumbled, it spiked like lightning through her skull. Finally, as she crested a slight incline, she saw a break in the trees. Drawing closer she could see that the ground in the center of the clearing was scarred black and the wet, scorched smell was at its strongest.