The Host 32 page

I let my eyelids droop, let my body sag against the seat.

Chagrin. I could do chagrin. I could feel it now.

My mouth turned down into a sheepish grimace.

The Seekers’ car did not park behind us, the way I could feel Mel expected. It stopped across the road, on the shoulder, facing the wrong way for that lane’s traffic flow. A dazzling light exploded through the window of the other car. I blinked into it, raising my hand to shade my face with deliberate slowness. Faintly, past the glare of the spotlight, I saw the gleam of my eyes bounce against the road as I looked down.

A car door slammed. One set of footsteps made a pattern of low thuds as someone crossed the pavement. There was no sound of dirt or rocks, so the Seeker had emerged from the passenger side. Two of them, at least, but only one coming to interrogate me. This was a good sign, a sign of comfort and confidence.

My glowing eyes were a talisman. A compass that could not fail‑like the North Star, undoubtable.

Lying with my body was not the key. Telling the truth with it was enough. I had something in common with the human baby in the park: nothing like me had ever existed before.

The Seeker’s body blocked the light, and I could see again.

It was a man. Probably middle‑aged‑his features conflicted with one another, making it hard to tell; his hair was all white, but his face was smooth and unwrinkled. He wore a T‑shirt and shorts, a blocky gun clearly visible on his hip. One hand rested on the butt of the weapon. In his other hand was a dark flashlight. He didn’t turn it on.

“Having a problem, miss?” he said when he was a few feet away. “You were going much too fast for safety.”

His eyes were restless. They swiftly appraised my expression‑which was, hopefully, sleepy‑and then ran along the length of the van, darted into the darkness behind us, flashed forward to the stretch of highway ahead, lit by our headlights, and came back to my face. They repeated the course another time.

He was anxious. This knowledge made my palms sweaty, but I tried to keep the panic from my voice.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized in a loud whisper. I glanced at Jared, as if checking to see whether our words had woken him. “I think… well, I think I might have fallen asleep. I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

I tried to smile remorsefully. I could tell I sounded stiff, like the too‑careful actors on the television.

The Seeker’s eyes traced their route again, this time lingering on Jared. My heart jumped painfully against the inside of my ribs. I pinched the pill tighter.

“It was irresponsible for me to drive for so long without sleep,” I said quickly, trying again to smile a little. “I thought we could make it to Phoenix before I would need rest. I’m very sorry.”

“What’s your name, miss?”

His voice was not harsh, but neither was it warm. He kept it low, though, following my cue.

“Leaves Above,” I said, using the name from the last hotel. Would he want to check my story? I might need someplace to refer him to.

“Upside‑down Flower?” he guessed. His eyes flickered around their course.

“Yes, I was.”

“My partner, too. Were you on the island?”

“No,” I said quickly. “The mainland. Between the great rivers.”

He nodded, perhaps a little disappointed.

“Should I go back to Tucson?” I asked. “I think I’m quite awake now. Or maybe I should take a nap right here first ‑”

“No!” he interrupted me in a louder voice.

I jumped, startled, and the little pill slipped from my fingers. It dropped to the metal floor with a faintly audible clink. I felt the blood drain from my face as though a plug had been pulled.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized quickly, his eyes repeating their restless circle. “But you shouldn’t linger here.”

“Why?” I managed to whisper. My fingers twitched anxiously at the empty air.

“There was a… disappearance recently.”

“I don’t understand. A disappearance?”

“It could have been an accident… but there might be…” He hesitated, unwilling to say the word. “Humans may be in this area.”

“Humans?” I squeaked, too loud. He heard the fear in my voice and interpreted it the only way he could.

“There’s no proof of that, Leaves Above. No sightings or anything. Don’t be anxious. But you should proceed on to Phoenix without unnecessary delay.”

“Of course. Or maybe Tucson? That would be closer.”

“There’s no danger. You can continue with your plans.”

“If you’re sure, Seeker…”

“I’m quite sure. Just don’t go wandering off into the desert, Flower.” He smiled. The expression warmed his face, making it kind. Just like all the other souls I’d dealt with. He wasn’t anxious about me, but for me. He wasn’t listening for lies. And he probably wouldn’t recognize them if he was. Just another soul.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” I smiled back at him. “I’ll be more careful. I know I couldn’t fall asleep now.” I glanced at the desert out Jared’s window with a wary expression, so the Seeker would think that fear was making me alert. My expression tensed into a taut mask as I caught sight of a pair of lights reflected in the side mirror.

Jared’s spine stiffened at the same time, but he held his pose. It looked too tight.

My eyes darted back to the Seeker’s face.

“I can help with that,” he said, still smiling but looking down now as he fumbled to remove something from his pocket.

He hadn’t seen the change in my face. I tried to control the muscles in my cheeks, to make them relax, but I couldn’t concentrate hard enough to make it happen.

In the rearview mirror, the headlights got closer.

“You should not use this often,” the Seeker went on, searching the other pocket now. “It’s not harmful, of course, or the Healers wouldn’t have us give it out. But if you use it frequently, it will alter your sleep cycles… Ah, here it is. Awake.”

The lights slowed as they approached.

Just drive by, I begged in my head. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

Let it be Kyle at the wheel, Melanie added, thinking the words like a prayer.

Don’t stop. Just drive. Don’t stop. Just drive.

“Miss?”

I blinked, trying to focus. “Um, Awake?”

“Just inhale this, Leaves Above.”

He had a thin white aerosol can in his hand. He sprayed a puff of mist into the air in front of my face. I leaned forward obediently and took a sniff, my eyes darting to the mirror at the same time.

“It’s grapefruit scented,” the Seeker said. “Nice, don’t you think?”

“Very nice.” My brain was suddenly sharp, focused.

The big moving truck slowed and then idled on the road be‑hind us.

No! Mel and I shouted together. I searched the dark floor for one half second, hoping against hope that the little pill would be visible. I couldn’t even make out my feet.

The Seeker glanced absently at the truck and then waved it forward.

I looked back at the truck, too, a forced smile on my face. I couldn’t see who was driving. My eyes reflected the headlights, shot out faint beams of their own.

The truck hesitated.

The Seeker waved again, more broadly this time. “Go ahead,” he muttered to himself.

Drive! Drive! Drive!

Beside me, Jared’s hand was clenched in a fist.

Slowly, the big truck shuddered into first gear and then inched forward through the space between the Seeker’s vehicle and ours. The Seeker’s spotlight outlined two silhouettes, two black profiles, both facing straight forward. The one in the driver’s seat had a crooked nose.

Mel and I both exhaled in relief.

“How do you feel?”

“Alert,” I told the Seeker.

“It will wear off in about four hours.”

“Thank you.”

The Seeker chuckled. “Thank you, Leaves Above. When we saw you racing down the road, we thought we might have humans on our hands. I was sweating, but not from the heat!”

I shuddered.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be perfectly fine. If you’d like, we can follow you to Phoenix.”

“I’m just fine. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

“It was nice to meet you. I’ll be pleased when my shift is over, so that I can go home and tell my partner I met another green‑first Flower. She’ll be so excited.”

“Um… tell her, ‘Brightest sun, longest day’ for me,” I said, giving him the Earthly translation of the common greeting and farewell on the Flower Planet.

“Certainly. Have a pleasant journey.”

“And you have a pleasant night.”

He stepped back, and the spotlight hit my eyes again. I blinked furiously.

“Cut it, Hank,” the Seeker said, shading his eyes as he turned to walk toward the car. The night turned black again, and I forced another smile toward the invisible Seeker named Hank.

I started the engine with shaking hands.

The Seekers were faster. The little black car with the incongruous light bar atop it purred to life. It executed a sharp U‑turn, and then the taillights were all I could see. They disappeared quickly into the night.

I pulled back onto the road. My heart pumped the blood through my veins in hard little bursts. I could feel the fierce pulse throbbing through to my fingertips.

“They’re gone,” I whispered through my suddenly chattering teeth.

I heard Jared swallow.

“That was… close,” he said.

“I thought Kyle was going to stop.”

“Me, too.”

Neither of us could speak above a whisper.

“The Seeker bought it.” His teeth were still clenched in anxiety.

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t have. Your acting hasn’t improved much.”

I shrugged. My body was so rigid, it all moved together. “They can’t not believe me. What I am… well, it’s something impossible. Something that shouldn’t exist.”

“Something unbelievable,” he agreed. “Something wonderful.”

His praise thawed some of the ice in my stomach, in my veins.

“Seekers aren’t all that different from the rest of them,” I murmured to myself. “Nothing to be especially afraid of.”

He shook his head back and forth slowly. “There really isn’t anything you can’t do, is there?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Having you with us is going to change everything,” he continued under his breath, talking to himself now.

I could feel how his words made Melanie sad, but she was not angry this time. She was resigned.

You can help them. You can protect them better than I could. She sighed.

The slow‑moving taillights did not frighten me when they appeared on the road ahead. They were familiar, a relief. I sped up‑just a little, still a few miles below the limit‑to pass them.

Jared pulled a flashlight out of the glove compartment. I understood what he was doing: reassurance.

He held the light to his own eyes as we passed the cab of the truck. I looked past him, through the other window. Kyle nodded once at Jared and took a deep breath. Ian was leaning anxiously around him, his eyes focused on me. I waved once, and he grimaced.

We were getting close to our hidden exit.

“Should I go all the way to Phoenix?”

Jared thought about it. “No. They might see us on the way back and stop us again. I don’t think they’re following. They’re focused on the road.”

“No, they won’t follow.” I was sure of this.

“Let’s go home, then.”

“Home,” I agreed wholeheartedly.

We killed the lights, and so did Kyle behind us.

We would take both vehicles right to the caves and unload quickly so they could be hidden before morning. The little overhang by the entrance would not hide them from view.

I rolled my eyes as I thought of the way into and out of the caves. The big mystery I hadn’t been able to solve for myself. Jeb was so tricky.

Tricky‑just like the directions he’d given Mel, the lines he’d carved onto the back of her photo album. They didn’t lead to his cave hideout at all. No, instead they made the person following them parade back and forth in front of his secret place, giving him ample opportunity to decide whether or not to extend an invitation inside.

“What do you think happened?” Jared asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“The recent disappearance the Seeker mentioned.”

I stared ahead blankly. “Wouldn’t that be me?”

“I don’t think you would count as recent, Wanda. Besides, they weren’t watching the freeway before we left. That’s new. They’re looking for us. Here.”

His eyes narrowed, while mine widened.

“What have they been doing?” Jared suddenly exploded, slapping his hand loudly against the dashboard. I jumped.

“You think Jeb and the others did something?”

He didn’t answer me; he just stared out across the star‑bright desert with furious eyes.

I didn’t understand. Why would the Seekers be looking for humans just because someone had disappeared in the desert? Accidents did happen. Why would they jump to that particular conclusion?

And why was Jared angry? Our family in the caves wouldn’t do anything to draw attention to themselves. They knew better than that. They wouldn’t go outside unless there was an emergency of some kind.

Or something they felt was urgent. Necessary.

Had Doc and Jeb been taking advantage of my absence?

Jeb had only agreed to stop slaughtering people and souls while I was under the same roof. Was this their compromise?

“You okay?” Jared asked.

My throat was too thick to answer. I shook my head. Tears streamed down my cheeks and fell from my chin to my lap.

“Maybe I’d better drive.”

I shook my head again. I could see well enough.

He didn’t argue with me.

I was still crying silently when we got to the little mountain that hid our vast cave system. It was actually just a hill‑an insignificant outcropping of volcanic rock, like so many others, sparsely decorated with spindly creosote and flat‑bladed prickly pears. The thousands of tiny vents were invisible, lost in the jumble of loose purple rocks. Somewhere, smoke would be rising, black on black.

I got out of the van and leaned against the door, wiping my eyes. Jared came to stand beside me. He hesitated, then put a hand on my shoulder.

“Sorry. I didn’t know they were planning this. I had no idea. They shouldn’t have…”

But he only thought that because they’d somehow gotten caught.

The moving truck rumbled to a stop behind us. Two doors slammed shut, and then feet were running toward us.

“What happened?” Kyle demanded, there first.

Ian was right behind him. He took one look at my expression, at the tears still running down my cheeks, at Jared’s hand on my shoulder, and then rushed forward and threw his arms around me. He pulled me into his chest. I didn’t know why this made me cry harder. I clung to him while my tears leaked onto his shirt.

“It’s okay. You did great. It’s over.”

“Seeker’s not the problem, Ian,” Jared said, voice strained, his hand still touching me, though he had to lean forward to preserve that point of contact.

“Huh?”

“They were watching the road for a reason. Sounds like Doc’s been… working in our absence.”

I shuddered, and for a moment, it seemed like I could taste silver blood in the back of my throat.

“Why, those ‑!” Ian’s fury robbed him of speech. He couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Nice,” Kyle said in a disgusted tone. “Idiots. We’re gone for a few weeks, and they’ve got the Seekers on patrol. They could have just asked us to ‑”

“Shut up, Kyle,” Jared said harshly. “That’s neither here nor there at the moment. We’ve got to get this all unloaded fast. Who knows how many are watching for us? Let’s grab a load and then get some more hands.”

I shook Ian off so that I could help. The tears did not stop running. Ian stayed close to my side, taking the heavy flat of canned soup I picked up and replacing it with a big but light box of pasta.

We started down the steep pathway in, Jared leading. The utter blackness did not bother me. I still didn’t know this path well, but it wasn’t difficult. Straight down, then straight up.

We were halfway there when a familiar voice called out from a distance. It echoed down the tunnel, fracturing.

“They’re back… ack… back!” Jamie was shouting.

I tried to dry my tears on my shoulder, but I couldn’t get them all.

A blue light approached, bouncing as the carrier ran. Then Jamie bounded into view.

His face threw me.

I was trying to compose myself to greet him, assuming he would be joyful and not wanting to upset him. But Jamie was already upset. His face was white and tense, his eyes rimmed in red. His dirty cheeks had rivulets through the dust there, tracks made by tears.

“Jamie?” Jared and I said together, dropping our boxes to the floor.

Jamie ran straight for me and threw his arms around my waist.

“Oh, Wanda! Oh, Jared!” he sobbed. “Wes is dead! He’s dead! The Seeker killed him!”

CHAPTER 49. Interrogated

I killed Wes.

My hands, scratched and bruised and painted with purple dust in the course of the frantic unloading, might as well have been painted red with his blood.

Wes was dead, and it was as much my fault as if I’d pulled the trigger myself.

All of us but five were gathered in the kitchen now that the truck was unloaded, eating some of the perishables we’d picked up on the final shopping trip‑cheese and fresh bread with milk‑and listening to Jeb and Doc as they explained everything to Jared, Ian, and Kyle.

I sat a little space away from the others, my head in my hands, too numb with grief and guilt to ask questions the way they did. Jamie sat with me. He patted my back now and then.

Wes was already buried in the dark grotto beside Walter. He had died four days ago, the night that Jared and Ian and I had sat watching the family in the park. I would never see my friend again, never hear his voice…

Tears splashed on the stone beneath me, and Jamie’s pats increased in tempo.

Andy and Paige were not here.

They’d driven the truck and the van back to their hiding places. They would take the jeep from there to its usual rough garage, and then they’d have to walk the rest of the way home. They would be back before sunrise.

Lily was not here.

“She’s not… doing so well,” Jamie had murmured when he’d caught me scanning the room for her. I didn’t want to know any more. I could imagine well enough.

Aaron and Brandt were not here.

Brandt now bore a smooth, pink, circular scar in the hollow space beneath his left collarbone. The bullet had missed his heart and lungs by a hair and then burrowed halfway through his shoulder blade trying to escape. Doc had used most of the Heal getting it out of him. Brandt was fine now.

Wes’s bullet had been better aimed. It had pierced his high olive‑skinned forehead and blown out the back of his head. There was nothing Doc could have done, even if he’d been right there with them, a gallon of Heal at his disposal.

Brandt, who now carried in a holster on his hip a boxy, heavy trophy from the encounter, was with Aaron. They were in the tunnel where we would have stored our spoils if it had not been occupied. If it was not being used as a prison again.

As if losing Wes was not enough.

It seemed hideously wrong to me that the numbers remained the same. Thirty‑five living bodies, just like before I’d come to the caves. Wes and Walter were gone, but I was here.

And now so was the Seeker.

My Seeker.

If I’d just gone straight to Tucson. If I had just stayed in San Diego. If I had just skipped this planet and gone somewhere entirely different. If I’d given myself as a Mother like anyone else would have after five or six planets. If, if, if… If I had not come here, if I had not given the Seeker the clues she needed to follow, then Wes would be alive. It had taken her longer than me to figure them out, but when she did, she didn’t have to pursue them with caution. She’d barreled through the desert in an all‑terrain SUV, leaving bright new scars across the fragile desert landscape, each pass getting closer.

They had to do something. They had to stop her.

I had killed Wes.

They still would have caught me in the first place, Wanda. I led them here, not you.

I was too miserable to answer her.

Besides, if we hadn’t come here, Jamie would be dead. And maybe Jared, too. He would have died tonight, without you.

Death on every side. Death everywhere I looked.

Why did she have to follow me? I moaned to myself. I’m not hurting the other souls here, not really. I’m even saving some of their lives by being here, by keeping Doc from his doomed efforts. Why did she have to follow?

Why did they keep her? Mel snarled. Why didn’t they kill her right away? Or kill her slow‑I don’t care how! Why is she still alive?

Fear fluttered in my stomach. The Seeker was alive; the Seeker was here.

I shouldn’t have been afraid of her.

Of course, it made sense to be afraid that her disappearance would bring the other Seekers down on us. Everyone was afraid of that. Spying on the search for my body, the humans had seen how vocal she was about her convictions. She’d been trying to convince the other Seekers that there were humans hiding in this desert wasteland. None seemed to take her seriously. They had gone home; she was the only one who kept looking.

But now she’d vanished in the middle of her search. That changed everything.

Her vehicle had been moved far away, left in the desert on the other side of Tucson. It looked as though she’d disappeared in the same way it was believed I had: pieces of her bag left torn nearby, the snacks she’d carried with her chewed open and scattered. Would the other souls accept such a coincidence?

We already knew they would not. Not entirely. They were looking. Would the search become more intense?

But to be afraid of the Seeker herself… That didn’t make much sense. She was physically insignificant, probably smaller than Jamie. I was stronger and faster than she was. I was surrounded by friends and allies, and she, inside these caves at least, was all alone. Two guns, the rifle and her own Glock‑the very gun Ian had once envied, the gun that had killed my friend Wes‑were trained on her at every moment. Only one thing had kept her alive until now, and it couldn’t save her for long.

Jeb had thought I might want to talk to her. That was all.

Now that I was back, she was condemned to die within hours whether I spoke to her or not.

So why did I feel as though I was at the disadvantage? Why this strange premonition that she would be the one to walk away from our confrontation?

I hadn’t decided if I wanted to talk to her. At least, that was what I’d told Jeb.

Without a doubt, I did not want to talk to her. I was terrified to ever see her face again‑a face that, no matter how I tried, I could not imagine looking frightened.

But if I told them I had no desire for conversation, Aaron would shoot her. It would be like I’d given him the order to fire. Like I’d pulled the trigger.

Or worse, Doc would try to cut her out of the human body. I flinched away from the memory of the silver blood smeared all over the hands of my friend.

Melanie twisted uneasily, trying to escape the torment in my head.

Wanda? They’re just going to shoot her. Don’t panic.

Should this comfort me? I couldn’t avoid the imagined tableau. Aaron, the Seeker’s gun in his hand; the Seeker’s body slowly crumpling to the stone floor, the red blood pooling around her…

You don’t have to watch.

That wouldn’t stop it from happening.

Melanie’s thoughts became a little frantic. But we want her to die. Right? She killed Wes! Besides, she can’t stay alive. No matter what.

She was right about everything, of course. It was true that there was no way the Seeker could stay alive. Imprisoned, she would work doggedly to escape. Freed, she would quickly be the death of all my family.

It was true she had killed Wes. He was so young and so loved. His death left a burning agony in its wake. I understood the claim of human justice that demanded her life in return.

It was also true that I wanted her to die.

“Wanda? Wanda?”

Jamie shook my arm. It took me a moment to realize that someone had called my name. Perhaps many times already.

“Wanda?” Jeb’s voice asked again.

I looked up. He was standing over me. His face was expressionless, the blank facade that meant he was in the grip of some strong emotion. His poker face.

“The boys want to know if you have any questions for the Seeker.”

I put one hand to my forehead, trying to block the images there. “If I don’t?”

“They’re ready to be done with guard duty. It’s a hard time. They’d rather be with their friends right now.”

I nodded. “Okay. I guess I’d better… go and see her at once, then.” I shoved myself away from the wall and to my feet. My hands were shaking, so I clenched them into fists.

You don’t have any questions.

I’ll think of some.

Why prolong the inevitable?

I have no idea.

You’re trying to save her, Melanie accused, full of outrage.

There’s no way to do that.

No. There isn’t. And you want her dead anyway. So let them shoot her.

I cringed.

“You okay?” Jamie asked.

I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to speak.

“You don’t have to,” Jeb told me, his eyes sharp on my face.

“It’s okay,” I whispered.

Jamie’s hand wrapped around mine, but I shook it off. “Stay here, Jamie.”

“I’ll come with you.”

My voice was stronger now. “Oh, no, you will not. ”

We stared at each other for a moment, and for once I won the argument. He stuck his chin out stubbornly but slouched back against the wall.

Ian, too, seemed inclined to follow me out of the kitchen, but I stopped him in his tracks with a single look. Jared watched me go with an unfathomable expression.

“She’s a complainer,” Jeb told me in a low voice as we walked back toward the hole. “Not quiet like you were. Always asking for more‑food, water, pillows… She threatens a lot, too. ‘The Seekers will get you all!’ That kinda thing. It’s been hard on Brandt especially. She’s pushed his temper right to the edge.”

I nodded. This did not surprise me one bit.

“She hasn’t tried to escape, though. A lot of talk and no action. Once the guns come up, she backs right down.”

I recoiled.

“My guess is, she wants to live pretty dang bad,” Jeb murmured to himself.

“Are you sure this is the… safest place to keep her?” I asked as we started down the black, twisting tunnel.

Jeb chuckled. “You didn’t find your way out,” he reminded me. “Sometimes the best hiding place is the one that’s in plain sight.”

My answer was flat. “She’s more motivated than I was.”

“The boys’re keepin’ a sharp eye on her. Nothin’ to worry about.”

We were almost there. The tunnel turned back on itself in a sharp V.

How many times had I rounded this corner, my hand tracing along the inside of the pointed switchback, just like this? I’d never traced along the outside wall. It was uneven, with jutting rocks that would leave bruises and cause me to trip. Staying on the inside was a shorter walk anyway.

When they’d first showed me that the V was not a V but a Y‑two branches forking off from another tunnel, the tunnel‑I’d felt pretty stupid. Like Jeb said, hiding things in plain sight was sometimes the cleverest route. The times I’d been desperate enough to even consider escaping the caves, my mind had skipped right over this place in my speculations. This was the hole, the prison. In my head, it was the darkest, deepest well in the caves. This was where they’d buried me.

Even Mel, sneakier than I was, had never dreamed that they’d held me captive just a few paces from the exit.

It wasn’t even the only exit. But the other was small and tight, a crawl space. I hadn’t found that one because I’d walked into these caves standing upright. I hadn’t been looking for that kind of tunnel. Besides, I’d never explored the edges of Doc’s hospital; I’d avoided it from the beginning.

The voice, familiar even though it seemed part of another life, interrupted my thoughts.

“I wonder how you’re still alive, eating like this. Ugh!”

Something plastic clattered against the rocks.

I could see the blue light as we rounded the last corner.

“I didn’t know humans had the patience to starve someone to death. That seems like too complex a plan for you shortsighted creatures to grasp.”