Quincey recounted the tale of her adventure from the very beginning. She explained everything to her pack, from having accidentally come into contact with Duplex on the first day, and the crazy spiral she’d made to get where she was: having broken out of a high-security holding at the hospital, and planning to make her escape to Locksmouth.
“… And Duplex told me that they could kill me if I didn’t listen,” She said.
The skiffs on Laila’s truck went from a high pitch to a low hum quickly as the giraffe herself slammed on the brakes and brought the vehicle to an abrupt stop. The sudden halt jerked Kenny and Daxton out of the backseat causing them to slam against the back of Laila and Quincey’s seats before crumpling to the floor. Other vehicles stopped suddenly to avoid rear-ending Laila’s old pick-up. Laila then stared Quincey down.
“You were bein’ serious?!” She practically squawked.
“Of course I was being serious!” Quincey squealed, folding down the collar of her shirt over her sweater, “But Duplex is helping me help it… or them, I suppose. It helped me break out of the hospital by letting me use its power.”
A honking horn reminded Laila of her situation, and she settled back in to continue driving. Daxton rose from behind the front seat in a bit of a daze. “You mean that thing you did with your shoe,” He stated as he fixed his hat and sat back. That was when he and Kenny decided to put on their seatbelts.
“Duplex explained that with its unique physiology it is capable of replicating objects perfectly. So perfectly in fact that it’s nearly at the molecular level!” Quincey explained, “But it’s not a permanent copy. Duplex has to take the physical data of the object into itself through my touch and create a duplicate using its own form. It can only hold the shape so long before the duplicate object breaks down again… and not into its base elements either. It seems to simply disappear and become part of Duplex again.”
“So it can take one left shoe and make a second left shoe,” Daxton nodded. It seemed simple enough, but that didn’t explain everything. “So how did that help you get out?”
“Well, Duplex used that ability on me,” Quincey breathed a sigh, “It… copied me, essentially creating a second me – a clone.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Kenny slumped, “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously!” Quincey said, “Here’s what happened…”
Quincey remembered making her deal with Duplex: to get it to Locksmouth one way or another. When it seemed she was to be trapped in the hospital however, Duplex surrendered its aid to her. It explained the nature of its ability to duplicate objects and even came up with the idea to duplicate Quincey herself in order to make a decoy that would serve as her escape. From there, however, it was up to Quincey to determine how she might proceed. She was ashamed to admit that it took her longer than she would have liked to come up with her plan.
Whenever she was taken to have tests performed, Quincey paid careful attention to her surroundings. Her mind was fully occupied on planning a route of escape, and that seemed to be just fine for all the doctors and officers. No one was going to ask her anything anyway; she had no reason to talk to them simply because they weren’t going to listen. But with all that time to think, she caught on to things quickly enough – granted some of the tests they ran took a bit out of her, making the process slightly sluggish.
For one, she had privacy in the washroom. Whenever she asked to be taken, the officer that would escort her wouldn’t enter the washroom with her. They simply waited outside for her to do her business before taking her back to her room. That gave her the opening she needed to have Duplex copy her body. It easily copied her clothing as well, and so in wearing the same patient’s clothes and identification bracelet, the clone would take Quincey’s place being paraded around the hospital. But that was only one part of Quincey’s plan, because it was obvious that wandering around the hospital looking like a patient was a bad idea. She needed to change her clothes and ditch her bracelet.
Doing that required some preparation, so she actually got Duplex to trade places with her several times. Quincey had to go to the bathroom a lot in those few days, just so she could occasionally ditch her guards and send her clone in her place. It was difficult until the clever girl was able to get her hands on some other patients’ clothing from around the hospital. She found her top from the room of someone who had been napping off their broken leg. The half-skirt was cleverly snagged from the hand-bag of a mother who had come to visit their son. The spandex shorts were simply in the lost-and-found, and Quincey didn’t think anyone would miss them. In the end it wasn’t much, and it looked kind of ridiculous, but it served its purpose.
Destroying the bracelet required a little more finesse, and it actually took Quincey some time to determine just how she could use a light fixture in the bathroom to short the thing; and doing that required no small amount of gall to basically stick her hand into a running light fixture. But the sudden energy spike caused the bracelet to malfunction, overloading it entirely so that not only would the holographic ID tag disappear, but the tracking chip in it shorted out. The end result left her with some small burns on her wrist, but the choice between searing her wrist-flesh and dying seemed like a no-brainer.
Getting her PET was harder. That required some mercy on her Uncle’s part. She spent every moment she wasn’t sneaking around or sleeping pleading with the man to let her at least call her friends. He finally broke down after a few days, and that was when she made her move to call Laila and get her to come pick her up. That set her plan into motion; the rest, as they say, was history.
“That’s impressive,” Daxton said.
“Yeah, that’s fantastic,” Kenny grunted, “But now what? Quincey just broke out of a hospital. Everyone knows that she’s an alien or something. We can’t bring her anywhere.”
Quincey looked out the window, taking a deep breath. “Well… I have to get to Locksmouth,” She said. She had made her decision days ago.
A silence swept through the truck as they came to yet another red light.
“… Honey, are you sure this is the best idea?” Laila asked, not looking away from the road for a second.
“You heard her, didn’t you?” Daxton piped up, “It’s either this or that alien has its way with her. We gotta get her outta here and on her way to Locksmouth, there’s no question!”
“I know, it’s just…” Laila paused as she fretted over the entire situation, “How? How do we do that? They aren’t gonna just let the gal walk onto the tram… Heck, even if they would, the tram ain’t runnin’!”
Quincey stared down at her feet, her mind racing over what she should do next. She’d escaped, but where could she go? She couldn’t go home; she couldn’t go anywhere comfortable… She had no choice but to go straight to Locksmouth. Somehow, she had to make it outside the dome. Just as long as she could make it outside, she’d be fine.
“I could walk,” Quincey said, “I’ll walk to Locksmouth. It’s connected by land, so I can just go straight there.”
“Quincey, that’d take days,” Laila said, “Ya don’t move half as fast as a tram does darlin’.”
“What else can I do?!” Quincey stared up at Laila, “Just wait until they open the tram again? As long as I’m out here they’ll never take the dome off lockdown!
“Uh, guys?”
“Well that’s the other point! How can ya expect to even get outta here?” Laila harped back, “Quincey it’s too dangerous. There’s gotta be somethin’ else.”
“Guys?”
“I know! I know it’s dangerous, do you think I haven’t thought about that?!” Quincey yelled back at her friend with a sense of annoyance she’d rarely been seen with. “I’m the thinker, Laila. It’s all I do is think, think, think! So yes, I’ve thought about how dangerous it is and how impossible it is! But it doesn’t matter! There’s nothing else I can do!”
“GUYS!”
The bellowing sound of sirens went off as two squad cars approached from behind. The other drivers on the road cleared the way for the police sirens as the law intended, but Laila just froze. She didn’t stop the vehicle, but she froze all the same. Quincey frantically turned her attention to the side-view mirror to see a car approaching from just behind them, and another pulled around Daxton’s side of the truck to try and drive at speed with them. Their loud, blaring sirens may as well have been a death toll for the little piggy passenger, and when it dawned on her that they were coming to take her away, Quincey turned to Laila quickly.
“Laila, they’re coming for me,” She snorted, “Laila, please, don’t let them catch me. Please, please Laila!”
“W-What do I do?!” The giraffe gasped. She gripped her steering wheel so tightly her knuckles would have turned white had it not been for her fur.
“Pull over!” A loud voice came from a loud-speaker attached to the adjacent squad car, “Pull over to the side of the road immediately!”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t!” Quincey shook her head frantically, “Uncle Jim can’t get this thing, he can’t! They can’t help me Laila!”
Kenny had undone his seatbelt so he could turn around in his seat. He peered out the back window at the cop car drawing closer from behind. “Ohhhh man… Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick!” Kenny squeaked, “T-They’re getting closer!”
“Laila, we can’t,” Daxton said as he leaned in closer behind the giraffe and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I trust Quincey.”
“Laila, I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry!” Quincey squealed, clasping her hands together, “I never wanted this to happen, I never wanted any of this to happen!”
“I repeat, pull over immediately!”
“Laila, pick it up, girl…!” Kenny shouted up to the giraffe, “They’re gonna start ramming us soon!”
Laila’s other foot was tapping against the floor beneath her anxiously. All she had to do was lift that foot up and press down on the brake, and the quick solution would be found. She could stop the truck, surrender Quincey from this crazy crusade of hers, and the girl could go back to getting help separating her from that alien monster inside her. On the other hand, the piggy, her sweet, sweet Quincey, was pleading for her life to keep from going back to that hospital. Laila was torn; who knew better? Was it the adults scrambling to find a way, or the girl who seemed so certain that some crazy trip would save her life? It was all happening so quickly that all Laila really wanted was a chance to breathe, to think; but she just wouldn’t get that chance.
The police car then sped up just enough to nudge the back end of the truck. The truck rocked with the impact of the metal on metal, but held steady enough not to swerve. It was clearly a small warning to the kids that the officers meant to bring Quincey in even if they had to run her off the road first, but all it served to do was make up Laila’s mind for her. Gritting her teeth, she punched it, slamming her foot down on the accelerator to unleash a mighty roar from her truck that sent it barreling into high speeds. She pulled away from the officers, but not suddenly enough that they wouldn’t be in hot pursuit in mere moments.
“You better have an idea!” Laila stated as she leaned towards the wheel, “Because this is nuttier than butter!”
“Aha, peanut butter,” Daxton turned momentarily from the window, “I get i-- ow!”
Daxton found his head smacked against the window as Laila jerked the wheel. Her truck sluggishly avoided the daytime traffic, tearing past cars in her lane while forcing cars in the other to veer off the road to get out of the way of the large vehicle. The police had far more maneuverable vehicles however, and their smaller, sleeker vehicles were able to keep up with ease.
Laila did her best to ignore the frantic yelling of not only her passengers but also the people driving their cars and walking the city streets. The screeching sirens and the roaring of her truck’s engine congested her thoughts, and the insanity of the situation had her palms so sweaty she felt them slip off the wheel more than once while she ducked and weaved her heavy vehicle through traffic like it was a slalom course. To her credit, the worst she had ever done was clipping a family car’s front bumper as she cut in front of them.
It was obvious that the truck and its passengers didn’t intend to stop. The police called in their backup before attempting another maneuver to ease them off the road – though it wasn’t as archaic as ramming or pushing them. The streets opened up after Laila and the two police cars in pursuit tore around the corner of an intersection, and that’s when the law took its chance. They picked up their speed until they overtook Laila’s truck, and one car pulled up to drive alongside her once more. Matching her speed, they announced their intent again – a warning.
“Your PeTra Compliance Systems will be activated!”
“Whoa, whoa, PCS!” Kenny shouted from the back seat, “Laila! PCS!”
“I heard ‘em ya ding-dong!” She yelled back.
The activation of a vehicle’s PeTra Compliance Systems - or PCS - was crystal clear to any driver. It had the power to safely ease a vehicle off the road, and was a tool for officer’s to use in situations exactly like this occurrence. Much to the giraffe’s dismay, her accelerator was cut, and an automated system took control from her hands. The wheel turned itself, locking at gradual intervals to begin easing her to the side of the road while on-board sensors kept her from colliding with anything. Try as she might, the girl couldn’t force the wheel in the other direction to keep her on the road.
“Gah, damnit!” Kenny shouted as he unbuckled his seatbelt in a hurry and practically leapt over the seat. He landed hard on Quincey’s lap and scrambled to get in below where her feet were. It was a lot of squirming and thrashing from both Kenny and Quincey, but after no small number of accidental kicks and awkward rubbing, Kenny finally managed to squeeze in beneath the dash.
“What are you doing?!” Quincey squealed.
“Not going to jail!” Kenny shouted back as he grabbed a panel beneath the dash and dug his fingers as tightly into the crease as he could to yank it out. It took a few good tugs, but the panel snapped open to hang loosely, revealing all kinds of cables and wires that made up the inner workings of the car.
The wiring in a PeTra was complicated. After cars were innovated beyond simple voltage batteries and combustion engines, the wiring became so complex that it wasn’t unlike driving a robot. Many security and safety features had been built into every vehicle, as well as routing systems for modern fusion engines. History showed that most people assumed cars would change so terribly much that mechanics would become out-dated, with their jobs being replaced by systems that automated car repair. So delicate was the task, it was almost certain that no human would find themselves under the hood again.
But history was wrong sometimes. That truck may have been as complicated as a human body, but Kenny took lessons in surgery.
It didn’t take him long to find the cluster of wires he needed. He reached in with both hands and peeled apart the bundles of vehicle tendon to find just one particular wire. He pinched it and wrenched on it, yanking and tugging until it was out just far enough… then he put evolution to work! Shoving his face into the odd-smelling rubber mess, he clamped down on the wire with his incisors and began to chew and tear. With one choice rip, sparks flew, causing the lemming boy to squeak and push back against Quincey’s legs as the system shorted.
The wheel jerked, and became loose and responsive once more. Laila gripped it firmly, pounded her foot onto the accelerator and picked up speed once again. “Ya did it pip-squeak!” She gasped.
“Yes! I would not last a week in the slammer!” Kenny perked up. His sudden rise from down below caught his head beneath Quincey’s skirt, but he didn’t care. He simply raised his hands in triumph.
With full control back in her hands, Laila stole a glance at the police car to her left side. Then she reared the wheel right before yanking it left, using the bulky weight of her truck to side-check the small, sleek police vehicle and shoved it off the side of the street. Unable to withstand the metal bulk, the officers were forced aside, and met a hard collision with a street pole. Daxton watched, after he was done being thrown around by Laila’s driving, as the police vehicle suddenly met that pole and simply zipped out of sight as Laila tore away.
“Whoa, whoa!” The corgi boy yelled, “Careful! You could hurt somebody!”
“Ol’ Betsy can handle it!” Laila licked her lips, peering through her windshield with determination.
“That’s not what I said!” Daxton barked, only to be thrown aside again as Laila shot around another turn at yet another intersection.
This would prove to be one wrong turn however, as Laila quickly noticed the police blockade that had been set up at the following intersection. Everyone saw it as the truck barreled towards two police cars that had been parked back-to-back, lengthwise across the street. Laila gripped the wheel and leaned back; Kenny had climbed into the seat between Quincey and Laila only to grip Quincey tightly. Quincey held Kenny as tightly as she could in her arms as the blockade got closer and closer, and Daxton yanked on the sides of his hat with a white-knuckle grip in the back seat.
“AHHHHHHHHH!!!”
The truck crashed through the block set up by the police by simply ramming through the middle of it. The weight and momentum of Laila’s vehicle tossed the back-ends of the police vehicles aside and sent them into a spin. The sudden collision jerked everyone in the truck forwards, but they never stopped. Instead, Laila blew through that three-way intersection that came out near a city tram station, where her truck charged helplessly through the guard rail at the side of the road, cleared the drop into the grass, and drove straight into the side of the tunnel where the trams would pass to go above or below ground. That particular impact crumpled the front of the truck like a Carbolate can, crinkling the hood and shattering the frontal lights while engaging the impact air bags into their faces.
The ride was clearly over. Sparks sputtered from the truck as the teenagers reeled from the experience. All the bouncing, shaking, and crashing left them feeling like they’d all taken a tumble in a clothes dryer, and it wasn’t clear if the silence around them was simply because the police hadn’t caught up or because their heads had been jarred so much that their hearing was what had to catch up. Quincey groaned and unbuckled her seatbelt, picking her glasses up from the seat and putting them back on so she could take in her surroundings. Daxton, Laila, and Kenny collected themselves as well only to hear Quincey gasp.
“The city subtram tunnels!” She said in revelation, “The emergency tunnel exits connect to the intercity tunnels! We can use them to get out of the city!”
“May as well,” Laila winced as she opened the door, “I don’t have the funds to pay for wreckin’ police property.”
The teens filed out, with Daxton getting out last since he was in the back seat. The boy’s legs bowed as he stepped out, one hand clenched between his legs. “G-God… I think… I think I sat on it…” He groaned, “Oh god… Ohhh wow…”
The police weren’t far behind. They pulled to a stop, three cars in all, at the edge of the guard rail. The sound of sirens was faint in the distance as well, implying yet more law enforcers were on their way. As quickly as they could, the teens scrambled across the tracks and descended into the tunnel. The tunnel was lit if just barely enough for people to navigate them in the event that such a thing became necessary. Concrete platforms made walkways at the side of the tracks that fit people in twos side-by-side at best with metal railings to stand stalwart against any slips or falls onto the tracks.
The city tram tunnels went all the way around the Harbington dome like a big, giant circle. Trains stopped at stations at key points around the dome such as the high school or the residential sector. There was nowhere you couldn’t go just by riding the train and taking a short walk, making the need for vehicles like Laila’s very minimal in terms of a personal mode of transportation. With the dome only really having the population about 7,500 people, the trains didn’t suffer from the clutter one would expect from larger cities like Locksmouth and Anchorsway – the under population crisis was to thank for that.
What made the tunnels so important just then was that there were emergency exits from the dome that were located along the tracks. These passageways could funnel citizens from the local tracks towards the intercity tracks where they could then find their way outside. There were many different routines for people to follow in case of an emergency and only the most critical would ever see Harbington’s citizens actually leaving the dome. Even so, they were far from abandoned, and the next challenge of escaping for the teenagers would come in the form of getting past security measures they knew were up ahead while being pursued from behind by the police. It wasn’t going to be an easy task.
“There’s going to be guards, you know,” Daxton huffed as he hurried alongside his pack, “Not to mention the blast door.”
“Well we can’t stop now!” Kenny glowered, “Come on!”
Knowing their role, Kenny and Daxton pushed to run ahead. It was a mad sprint as the large doors came into sight, and just as expected there were two guards stationed outside dressed in obvious uniform and carrying neu-rods with them. It was far from a subtle approach, both boys charging in with the speed of track and field sprinters. The guards saw them, one being a hooded cobra and the other a Scottish terrier, but even so it seemed the kids had caught them by surprise. They didn’t expect them to get there so soon; in fact the warning came over their communicators as soon as they spotted Daxton and Kenny.
“It’s those kids!” One shouted, “Get ‘em!”
Before they could even both ready their weapons, Kenny had tackled the smaller Scottish terrier to the floor by throwing all his weight at the older man’s gut. He wrestled with the man as they both tried to grab for the stunning neu-rod as it clattered to the ground. The guard’s partner would have jumped to help if he hadn’t been predisposed with Daxton. The cobra’s reflexes were that much quicker, and as Daxton closed in, the guard thrust out the rod to try and stun him. Daxton’s feet shifted, his hips turned, displacing him from the line of thrust where he reached to grab the handle of the rod with his right hand. Before there could be a struggle, Daxton brought his left arm up against the chin and neck of the man and simply spread his arms apart, causing a push and pull that relinquished the weapon into Daxton’s hand.
A well-placed knee caused the guard to stumble and fall, and Daxton was quick to use his own weapon against him. One quick jab to the exposed area between the neck and the shoulder and the cobra’s muscles turned to putty. Kenny only barely managed to fight the rod out of the other guard’s hand by biting down on his wrist hard enough to force them to let go, and just like Daxton he used it to incapacitate his foe.
“Say what you want about you guys bein’ brutes, but that ah-kee-doo is mighty useful!” Laila cheered as she caught up. They all paused a moment as a commotion of hurried footsteps echoed from behind them deeper into the tunnel. The police were on their way, and there was no time to stop. The blast doors blocking the exit, however, proved a problem. Quincey hurried to the door to try and figure out the mechanism, the panting, winded piggy discovering the lock was a simple dual-key mechanism with two security card readers waiting for the precise swipe to open them up.
“Look for… cards!” Quincey panted, “Hurry!”
“Hold this!” Kenny shouted as he tossed the rod he’d stolen from the guard to Laila, who fumbled to catch it in fear she might get struck with the wrong end.
“Oi! Get off’a me!” The terrier guard shouted as Kenny started to root through all his pockets. Try as he might however, the numb tingle in his muscles wouldn’t allow him to do much more than squirm in his efforts to stop the boy. Finally Kenny checked the breast pocket of the man’s uniform to find a keycard, and he held it up. “Got one!”
“This guy doesn’t have anything!” Daxton growled as he desperately searched the other guard, even going so far as to drop the stunning weapon to search with both hands; “Damnit!”
“Give me the card!” Quincey ordered. She nearly snatched it away from Kenny, where she held it in both hands and, much like with her shoe demonstration, simply pulled a silvery, liquid copy of the card free from its original. As the copy card took the shape of its parent, Quincey handed it off to Laila. “There! Go!”
Laila scrambled to reach the other side of the door, and the girls readied their cards to wave them over the readers at the same time. Daxton and Kenny stood tense as no fewer than five officers came into sight from around the bend of the tunnel, and they obviously saw the kids by the way they were pointing at them. Quincey’s quick thinking worked, but the door was slow to open. The metallic, hulking doors parted and seemed to drag open. It was enough in little time for the kids to squeeze through, but there was far from enough time to wait for the doors to open completely so they might close them again.
Quincey barely squeezed through the gap, her chubby body getting stuck momentarily, but she wriggled frantically through. With the officers not far behind, they continued their sprint, though Quincey was feeling the burn. Her breaths were coming heavy and labored, and her clumsy, fat body felt far too heavy. Lifting her legs was beginning to be a chore, and that didn’t bode well for the number of stairs the tunnel was presenting her with. She fumbled up the stairs, exerting herself to her very limits.
“N-Need… guh… slow them down…” She huffed and heaved, “Duplex…!”
Quincey stumbled, but seemed to stumble out of a sudden inky shell that had surrounded her body. The silver, Quincey-sized blob swiftly smoothed out to her proportions, and the colours of her body and clothing faded in like a gradient to create a quick duplicate. Her double turned and dashed towards the officers, but as it left the girl felt a wave of almost debilitating weakness wash over her. Her legs became wet noodles almost instantly, and she collapsed onto the stairs. Try as she might, she could barely even crawl. Fortunately her pack had been watching her and making sure she was keeping up, and on seeing this happen, Daxton turned quickly to retrieve her.
“Quincey!” He called, “Are you okay?!”
“I-I can’t… I can’t go…” Quincey fumbled her words, but the message was clear. Quickly, Daxton reached down to try and heft her heavy form up, trying to at least throw her arms over his shoulders. When she took hold, he turned, knelt, grabbed her thick thighs, and hefted them up to either side of him with a heavy grunt, and then he started to piggy-back her out. Quincey was no small lady, and her added weight made Daxton’s climb up the stairs an intense, sweaty labor.
Duplex gave them enough time to get some distance, charging right into two officers and grabbing hold of them to try and stop their progress. They immediately tried to break the grapple with some stun-rod applications, but the inkling double’s non-organic compounds didn’t react in the same way, and so she was able to keep her grip on them for several precious seconds before she too succumbed to fatigue and seemed to collapse and melt away. By the time that happened however, Daxton and Quincey could see the light of the outdoors.
“Sorry I’m heavy…!” Quincey whined.
“Never… never say you can’t!” Daxton grunted, “Right…?”
“Come on, hurry up!” Kenny shouted as he waved the two of them along, “Pick up the pace!”
With frantic running and panting breaths, the four teens made their way outside the dome. The almost fluorescent light of the tunnel gave way to early-afternoon sun and fresh air and clear skies. Without wasting much time, they plunged into the coniferous tree line and began their trek into the forest beyond the dome. The grassy, dirty terrain was uneasy beneath their feat, with sudden ridges, rocks, and upturned tree roots to trip them up and make their dash a difficult one. Regardless of their progress, the officers were quick to hurry out in pursuit, making it imperative that the teens not stop for even a second. They were forced to press on into the unfamiliar territory of the forest.
One sudden drop and Daxton fell with Quicey into what seemed to be like a natural trench. The earth created a neat path with walls on either side that stood a solid five feet high. The impact of the landing with Quincey flopped out over his back knocked the wind out of the boy, but he forced himself to suck in a gasp that flared his lungs and back up in pain. Quincey was unresponsive atop him, and he struggled to lift the girl with legs shaky with strain and the sudden shift in gravity he’d suffered.
“Over here!” Kenny called as quietly to Daxton as he could, and the boy turned to see he and Laila nestled into what looked to be some kind of burrow. Roots from plants and trees made them more difficult to see, and the small hole looked like a snug fit, but Daxton had few options. He dragged himself and Quincey over to that hole and had his friends nearly haul the both of them snuggly within. They crowded together and lay in wait for the officers to rush past, scrambling to spread out and find them. Fortunately they passed right by, and the kids breathed a sigh of relief collectively.
“Holy shit,” Kenny breathed, barely, as he was wedged in tightly with the others, “Hooooo-leeee shite…”
“We’re outside,” Laila blinked, “We… we made it, we… we ran from the police, we… we crashed my truck…!” The realization of what was happening finally seemed to hit her with a distraught expression – she could practically feel her hair frizzing. “Oh god, what do we do now?” She asked.
“Man, Quinn, you’re sweating like a pig…” Kenny squirmed uncomfortably.
“S… Sorry…” Quincey sighed weakly.
Daxton, who was pinned beneath Quincey, reached up to take her hand and rest it against his cheek. Her skin felt sweaty and cool. “You’re so cold,” He said, “Quincey, are you okay?”
Laila, easily taking up the most room in the cramped space, shifted until she could rest her cheek against Quincey’s curiously. “Oh m’goodness, you are cold!” She stated.
“I’m okay… I’m just tired…” The piggy breathed, shivering a little, “R-Really, I’ll be okay… We have to keep going.”
“Hate to say it, but she’s right,” Kenny said with a grunt as he pushed against Laila for some room, “Look, it’s already getting close to sundown, and I don’t like being the bearer of bad news, but we don’t have any food or anything.”
“Oh, no…” Quincey whined, “I’m sorry…”
“We have to worry about that later,” Daxton spoke with some clear authority as he started to pull himself free of the little hidey-hole they’d stuffed themselves into, “One thing at a time, okay? First, let’s avoid getting arrested, then we can go ahead and start looking for some food. There’s gotta be some berries or something around here, right? It’s a forest.”
“Well where do we go?” Kenny grunted as he filed out with the others, getting up on his knees and brushing his pants off.
“Okay, well… we’re headin’ to Locksmouth, yeah?” Laila started to figure as she dragged herself out last. She didn’t seem to mind the dirt covering her clothing all that much. “And L-Mouth is on the coast, so… We just need to make our way to the water. The Merle River runs right along Harbington’s east side, and all rivers flow towards the ocean…”
“So we follow the river,” Kenny deducted, “Alright. Where’s east?”
Removing her PET from her pocket, Laila pressed a few buttons on it. “That way,” She said, gesturing in a direction with the neu-rod she’d kept. It seemed she had something on her handheld device that would act as a compass.
“Alright then, let’s get moving,” The lemming said, beginning his stealthy march.
Laila followed him, having to make an effort to keep low beneath the natural ridge of the forest-born trench because of just how long her legs were. Daxton, before leaving, took one of Quincey’s arms and wrapped it around his shoulders. He briefly nosed her cheek, giving her hand a squeeze so that she might hold tightly to him. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked.
The girl nodded, shedding a small smile to the corgi. “Yes,” She answered softly, “I think so.”
-
--
-
“Kenny did what?”
“And we’re getting charged to have her truck hauled off?”
“I thought I was seeing things when I watched her get into that vehicle!”
“Where is he now?!”
If Quincey’s friends hadn’t expected to be so suddenly thrust out into the wild on a journey they were ill prepared for, then their parents were even worse off when they got the news of what had happened. That morning started out like any other, but by sunset they had discovered that their children were at that time on the run from the police somewhere out in the thick forests surrounding the dome. It came as such a shock, but no one had any answers as to why events had transpired that way. They looked to each other for the truth but were all just as lost.
“Quincey would never,” Walter, the girl’s father, snorted, “She couldn’t, even if she has an alien in her. There’s no way.”
“But I saw her with my own eyes, Walter,” Paula said, “She was getting into Laila’s truck.”
Both of the porky parents looked aross the dining room table to the Lavinias. The two giraffes, settled in with their youngest daughter on Eden’s lap, looked back at them in obvious distaste of their accusing gazes. Gunther, Laila’s father, raised his graying eyebrows. “Well don’t look at me,” He said, “I didn’t know nothin’ about this.”
The giraffe rubbed his chin, brushing his fingers through the small beard that tapered from there. “Laila’s a darling, she wouldn’t ever do what she did,” He said, “Somethin’s not right.”
Eden shook her head and squeezed her youngest daughter closer. “It sounds more like something her friend would do,” She said, “He’s always getting into fights as school and wrestling all the time.”
She looked across the room to a small, robust lemming male with mostly blackened fur, but his almost excessively bushy eyebrows, beard, and moustache were all coloured a more golden brown. When the giraffes turned their attention on him, his eyebrows turned inward in a bit of a scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Kenny’s a lot of things,” He said as he idly tugged on one of the rolled up sleeves of his jumpsuit, “But he’s no felon. Besides, Quincey said she wanted to go to Locksmouth, so she obviously convinced them to go.”
“More like she convinced Daxton,” Walter scoffed.
All attention then turned to the head of the dining room table where Eddie and Edward sat side by side with one hand each gripped tightly in one another’s upon the table’s surface. “Don’t you blame my baby, Walter” Edward snipped back at Walter, “He’s just supporting Quincey. That’s what he always does. And it’s about time someone did.”
“What are you trying to say, Edward?” Walter pushed out of his chair and stood as menacing as his shorter; mostly round form would allow him to and planted his hands atop the table.
“Oh don’t get all huffed up Walter, your nose will start running,” Edward waved a limp wrist at Walter’s reddening face.
“Hey, hey,” Eddie gave his husband a look, “Cut it out.”
“We’ve been nothing but supportive of Quincey,” Paula frowned, “This whole time we’ve been trying to watch over her, but we… but we just…”
“We know,” Eddie said firmly, trying to take control of the room, “We all know that. This isn’t anyone’s fault; no one could have seen this coming. It all got messed up with that Inkling got involved.”
“Exactly. It’s all that Dooper’s fault,” Kenny’s father, Gerald, grunted.
Eddie couldn’t help but breathe a laugh. “Duplex,” He corrected, “Quincey said its name is Duplex and it wanted her to bring it to Locksmouth; so we know where they’re heading.”
“But we don’t know where they are,” Eden, Laila’s mother, interjected, “I don’t care where they’re going.”
Paula eased Walter back into his seat where he would simply rest his head in his hands and mess up his neatly parted black hair. His wife rubbed his back tenderly before looking almost pleadingly to Eddie. “That creature is dangerous,” She said with a momentary glance to her arm, “There’s nothing short of bringing her home that could ever make me feel at ease about any of this.”
“And the police are trying,” Eddie calmly responded.
“Not hard enough,” Gerald scowled, “How hard could it be to find a bunch of kids? We should go look for them too.”
“You can’t leave the dome, Gerald, and you know it,” Eddie shot the other man down quickly, “None of us can.”
“Oh would it even be so bad if they made it to Locksmouth?” Edward tsk’d, “Honestly, that girl was screaming at people to let her go. We should have helped her, or she wouldn’t have had to go this far.”
“What are you sayin’? That we just sit here and do nothin’?” Gunther glared, “And that we just trust that… that thing?”
Edward, feisty as ever, glared right back. “Do you mean that thing Duplex? Or that thing Quincey?” He asked with a sharp tongue, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I know my son well enough that I’m dead certain – or kill me now – that he would never lift a finger to an officer or even another human being unless he had a darn good reason to do it. If Quincey insists that going to Locksmouth would solve her problems, and Daxton believes in her enough to help her do that, then I stand behind my son one-hundred percent.”
“Are you crazy?!” Walter lifted his head, “Ed, seriously! My daughter could… she could not even be herself right now!”
“Well, you tell me,” Edward huffed, “Is she? Or not?”
“How should we know?!” The porcine man shouted.
Releasing Eddie’s hand, Edward stood. “Because you are her father, Walter,” He said, “And you should know whether or not your daughter has the strength within her and the head on her shoulders wise enough to make her own decisions and follow through with them – consequences be damned.”
There was a moment of silence and hurt throughout the room as no parent wanted to speak up against what they were so unsure of. Edward, however, seemed absolutely certain, and he continued.
“I’ve known Quincey for as long as I’ve loved, nurtured, and cherished my son,” He said, “I’ve met their friends, I’ve watched them, and I love them all. So rather than sit here trying to blame any one of you for what our children – our nearly adult children – have done, I’m certain that whatever they’re doing is what they think is right. I also trust that Eddie and I have done a darn good job at teaching our son what right is. I acknowledge that what he’s done… what they’ve all done is out of the ordinary, but I refuse to let anyone use him as some scapegoat so they don’t have to acknowledge the idea that their own child could have come to this decision all on their own.”
“They’re trying to help your daughter,” Edward then turned his attention back to Paula and Walter, “And they’re doing it way more actively than Jim would ever have tried. So maybe instead of sitting here playing the blame game, we can focus on what’s important: that our kids come home safe. Nothing else should matter. If hiking all the way to Locksmouth will get my son home safe, then I hope he makes it there! If assaulting a police officer is what it takes, then I hope he bops another one!”
“Edward…” Eddie sighed softly as he stood.
“If going along with some alien scheme is what needs to happen, then so be it!” Edward shouted.
“Edward,” Eddie reached out and pulled his husband into an embrace, “You’re crying. That’s enough.”
Edward clung to Eddie, and the beaver’s emotions caught up with him and he began to sob. Eddie did his best to soothe his husband, letting him cry onto his shoulder while tenderly rubbing his back. The rest of the room wasn’t faring any better as their frustrations and fears had all mounted to the boiling point. Quincey’s parents sat silently and squeezed each other’s hands in silent assurance, while the Lavinias worked to calm down Valyrie as she got upset enough to cry. Gerald, lastly, gruffly stood at the door looking all kinds of sour and grim with no one to take any solace in.
“I can’t take this,” Gerald grunted, turning and storming out of the room. The others simply let him go.
“Alright,” Eddie whispered to his husband, “Hey, you’re right. Daxton’s a good kid. I’m sure he’s doing just fine.”
-
--
-
“Oh god, sweet water…!” Daxton wheezed as he collapsed at the side of the Merle River with Quincey slumped over his back.
“I’m so sorry…” The girl sighed, “I don’t know why I feel so weak.”
Daxton removed his hat and thrust his face into the cool, running water for a moment. Quincey slipped away from him and settled down on the ground where she hugged her knees to her chest and let him refresh himself. He’d strained himself so much to carry her that he’d started to really feel it. When he pulled his face from the water, he shook his head to fling water all over the place and let out a gasp for air before he sat back as well to rest a moment at the riverside.
Kenny climbed up onto a rock so that he could see a bit further downstream. Unfortunately it all looked like autumn leaves, pine needles, and dirt. There was no way for him to accurately gauge how far they were from Locksmouth, but considering Harbington was barely out of sight they couldn’t have gone a great distance. If they didn’t have to hide from patrolling officers, things may have been different, but more than once they had to stop and stay out of sight for minutes at a time while the police scoured the area. Finding the river was a real milestone in the whole thing, but it was hardly a place to rest for a long period of time. The respite was welcomed though, and it seemed the police weren’t as hot on their tail as they had been before.
“We oughta get you some food,” Laila said as she knelt down and rested her hand on Quincey’s cheek, “Did ya’ll find anything on the way?”
“The berries,” Daxton panted a little, still catching his breath, “Were all green.”
“Well that ain’t good,” Laila shook her head, “Can’t eat somethin’ that’s just gonna make us sick.”
“What do we do? I’m hungry…” Quincey almost whined.
“Now hold on a second,” Kenny spoke down to the others from his perch, “I have an idea. Laila, look at this.”
Laila caressed Quincey’s shoulder before slipping away to stand. At her height he was level with the squatting lemming boy as he held out his purple-cased PET. Laila took a look at the screen where Kenny had brought up the location of known camping grounds outside the dome, and she immediately knew just where he was going with the idea. Camping areas were broken into sectors for myriad reasons, not the least of which was to avoid any significant impact on the environment, or keep people from camping too close to the river if it was expected to flood due to rain. To them, the upside was that maybe, just maybe, there was food somewhere around those areas.
“We just have to be careful,” Kenny pointed out, “If the police are going to start checking anywhere, it’s probably going to be places like that.”
“We should cross the river,” Laila nodded, “See if that’ll slow ‘em down.”
Kenny took a deep breath and pocketed his PET. “This is just nuts,” He said.
“If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to,” Quincey said as she pushed herself to her feet, “I wouldn’t be mad, I… I didn’t mean to force anyone.”
Kenny and Laila shared a look before letting out little sighs. Kenny hopped off his perch and landed to step over to Quincey to take hold of her hand and start to walk with her, stepping backwards and leading her along the riverside. “You think I could go back now if I wanted to?” He’d ask as they stepped past Laila, “There’s no way. I think we’ve got better odds out here in the wild than going back home at this point. You want to end up back in the hospital?”
“It’s either take a hike or go to jail, ham-ham,” Laila smiled somewhat crookedly as she stepped in behind Quincey and rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders to push her along. Quincey kind of stumbled with her steps, but couldn’t rightly stop. “You’d have to be a couple horses short of a wagon to expect us to go back now. Besides, you’re our baby, and we look out for our own.”
“You’ll feel better when we stuff your face with some food,” Kenny grinned, working with Laila to hide their doubts, “But if you wanna eat, you gotta march. You’re gonna throw Daxton’s back out if you keep hitching rides on him.”
Quincey blinked rapidly as she walked along with them, and Daxton caught up with them quickly. The boy grinned as he rubbed the small of his back and said, “Nah, I hear pinched nerves build character…”
“B-But you’re sure? You’re all sure?” Quincey asked.
“Aren’t you?” Kenny cocked a brow.
Quincey nodded. “I swear that’s what Duplex told me: to go to Locksmouth and find Echelon,” She explained, “I’m one-hundred percent certain.”
“So… what is an Echelon anyway?” Daxton asked, “Did it tell you?”
“Well, aside from ‘echelon’ literally meaning a level of command, authority, or rank, I have no idea what Echelon is…” Quincey explained with a furrowed brow, “But it seems like Inklings don’t share our language originally. Duplex could have any number of names, but it claims that Duplex is just what we would call it. Considering what ‘duplex’ means and what its power is, maybe Echelon is some kind of high ranking Inkling.”
“And Duplex makes duplicates of things,” Laila pointed out, “I guess I get it. But, sweetie… are you sure we can trust it? I don’t know if I like the idea of, well… being taken to their leader without knowin’ why.”
“I’ll have to ask it the next time I see it… Before I used to see it places like the bathroom mirror and things like that, but I’ve only really talked to it when I’m dreaming…” Quincey sighed, “So... I’ll try when I can get some rest.”
“Alright then,” Daxton clapped his hands together once, “Then your job will be to talk to this thing while you sleep, and the rest of us are going to focus on getting you where you need to go.”
“Just think of it as one of your stories,” Kenny said. He released Quincey’s hands and turned to walk forwards normally along the river.
Quincey took a moment to think. “The only story that comes to mind is the story of the Children of Israel, Moses, and the Red Sea,” She said, “Where Moses lead the slaves of the ancient Egyptian Pharaoh through the desert on a forty year journey that eventually found them at the Red Sea.”
“I… don’t think this is quite like that,” Laila smiled wryly; “I don’t take a fancy to spending forty years out here.”
“Well unless I’m going to help us cross the river by somehow making the water part to reveal a dry path, I don’t think it’s going to be quite like that either,” Quincey smiled helplessly, “But we are walking a lot, so… that’s why I thought of it.”
“Any others come to mind…?” Daxton asked.
“Um…” Quincey pondered, “Hercules’ Twelfth Labor?”
“What’s that?” Kenny asked, looking back over his shoulder.
Quincey smiled somewhat nervously. “His descent into Hades to capture Cerberus…” She answered honestly.
The group stopped for a moment. “Whoa, whoa, hey now…” Daxton sputtered a little laugh, “Maybe something a little more cheery?”
“Not Dante’s Inferno,” Quincey immediately quipped back.
“Dare I ask?” Laila gave the pig girl a flat look from overtop the girl’s head.
Quincey kind of rolled her eyes to avert her gaze. “A journey through the nine circles of Hell,” She explained.
“All right, that’s enough out of you,” Laila pat Quincey’s shoulders and helped her along, “Less talkin’ more trottin’.”
“I-I think you guys would actually like those stories!” Quincey squealed as she was pushed along, “I-I’m serious!”
The three teens groaned a little, but kept up their march along the riverbank to find a place where the water was at least shallow enough to cross. It would be Laila’s eyes that caught sight of some shallow-water fauna along the river that signified a good point to cross, and they did so as quickly as possible while taking the time to remove their shoes for the march across. It was doubtful that the river would slow the police that much, but anything between them teenagers and their pursuers was a welcome obstacle.
It was around that time where the truth set in as the sun started to disappear over the horizon. No matter how much they tried to treat the outing like some harmless camping trip or a game to keep from getting caught, the fact that they weren’t going to turn around and go home was ever-present. They weren’t going to set up a tent and sleep under the stars, they weren’t going to make a fire and roast marshmallows; they would have been lucky to find a soft pile of leaves to sleep on in the open air or stumble across a half-eaten sandwich or something. The further they went the more obvious the truth became, and their jovial approach to the situation disappeared into a somber silence. Locksmouth wasn’t close by any means and the coming night wasn’t going to be the last they’d see before reaching their destination.
The air started to get cold as light became scarcer. They walked for some time, hitting up a few camping sites on the way to no avail. With the dome closed off, it made sense that no one was outside and enjoying nature. It was a shame, really. As solemn as the trip was quickly becoming, the days were still beautiful to see. A person not being able to enjoy it was just one more thing that had changed when the Inklings showed up. In hindsight, all the current events, all the debates, all the arguments and scientific chatter, it had all been about the Inklings and the Locksmouth Incident. Maybe they should have seen it coming. How could something so significant only affect just one city so strongly? Maybe even the adults were naïve to think that Harbington wouldn’t see its share of aliens…
In the end, it was fear that guided their actions. Quincey had been locked away out of fear, the dome had been closed out of fear, and even as Quincey marched on towards Locksmouth she, too, did so out of fear. She was afraid of dying; of having some strange essence sucked from her until all that was left was her corpse. The idea terrified her, and it was that terror that made her so agreeable to Duplex’s cause. For all intents and purposes, she was no less a prisoner outside of the dome when some monster was lurking inside her, ready to throw the kill switch if things went wrong. That was why she had to keep going.
And that was why she was happy that none of her pack decided to turn around and go home.
“Camper up ahead,” Laila announced in a hushed whisper. After what felt like ages of walking, she just managed to spot some light peeking through the trees. The group stopped and tried to be as quiet as possible.
“Maybe they’ll share some things with us,” Daxton said.
“Well what do we do?” Laila asked, “Just… ask? We look all kinds of suspicious, especially if the cops got to them first.”
Kenny looked around at his pack and noticed that poor Quincey looked to be on her last leg. She was panting, having walked too far on too little for someone like her. Looking ahead again and making himself as small as possible by the base of a tree, he took to pondering a way to get what they needed. After just a few moments, a solitary blink of his eyes cued a just as sudden idea. “Follow me and let me do the talking,” He said, looking to the others. They seemed uncertain, but were willing to give the boy the benefit of the doubt – he was the oldest, after all.
Looking ahead again, Kenny cleared his throat. “Um, hello?” He called out, waited, and then called again, “Hey? Is there someone there?”
After a few moments, a voice answered, “Hello?”
“Hey!” Kenny shouted back, “I have some people with me, and we need some help. Is it okay if we come closer?”
It was very strange to have someone approach a camp site during the night, and it seemed like whoever was there knew it. The masculine voice didn’t answer them as quickly, but there was some movement at the site. Another light appeared and shined into the forest, moving about like a flashlight. No doubt the teens were too far away to be properly seen, but the camper was diligent. “Is someone hurt?” They called back.
“No, we lost our packs in the river!” Kenny responded.
“… Come over here then,” The camper invited them, and without any hesitation Kenny stood from where he hid and started making his way to the light. The others followed behind him as he walked and none of them made any attempt to be silent. The rustling of leaves made it all too apparent where they were coming from, and swiftly the camper shined his light on Kenny, who winced and lifted his hands to shield his eyes from the glare. Seemingly satisfied with the fact that the people coming were indeed just a bunch of teenagers, the camper lowered the light.
“You’re just a bunch of kids,” He said, his visage cast in darkness. He stepped back to his site and into the dim light coming through the fabric of his tent, “Come here, I’ll make a fire. Where are your parents?”
Kenny paused a moment as the lot of them stepped out into the clearing. The man they were speaking to had to be a little older than him, but looked more mature. He seemed to have gray fur that bore the spotted pattern of a snow leopard. He also had very long hair that seemed wavy as he moved. The guy didn’t look dangerous at all, so there didn’t seem to be any need to worry.
“We’re part of a community group,” Kenny explained, “Kids for Kids? We help look after the differently-abled community.”
The man looked at the group curiously. “Is that right?” He asked briefly before turning his attention back to the fire pit where he had a sort of device. Rather than archaically destroying trees to start a fire, the dish-shaped metal plate sprouted flames at the simple push of a button. It wasn’t unlike a large Bunsen burner, with a lot of the flame actually being blue and casting a similarly coloured light. In the light the man definitely seemed like a young adult at most, with a head of luxuriously long red hair and very soft, fine features. He must have been dressed for bed considering he wore little more than some cropped top that wrapped around his chest and similar shorts.
“We had our things near the river,” Kenny continued, “And we didn’t realize that the banks were a little flooded. Our things ended up falling right in and getting washed down-stream. We had everything in there; our food, our tent… everything.”
The man’s eyes were studying each of them individually, obviously trying to determine if that story even made sense. Kenny looked to the others, and they looked back at him. “Please,” Kenny tried to turn the man’s attention back at him, “Quincey’s getting really weak without food and Daxton…”
The corgi lifted a finger to speak up, “I’m bli--”
“Well he doesn’t even know anything’s wrong, he’s a little… well, you know,” Kenny finished.
The leopard must have taken Daxton’s absolutely befuddled look as canon, because he quickly nodded his head. “Ohh, I see. I can spare a few things. I usually bring a lot with me whenever I come out here,” He explained, “Take a seat.”
The man turned away to disappear into his tent for a moment, and Daxton gave Kenny a punch in the arm before they all got seated on the ground around the warm fire. The lie was still in full swing however, and they knew they couldn’t linger there too long. A short rest was all they could afford to take, and Quincey in particular certainly needed one, but as soon as that was over they had to be moving again. Knowing this, they didn’t feel quite as comfortable around the fire as they should have been. There was something about the warm glow that felt empty.
It didn’t take long for the leopard to return, and with him he had some wrapped goods. “I have a few extra wrapped sandwiches, some nature bars, and this strawberry milk,” He said. To say that the teens were impressed was a bit of an understatement. Kenny’s eyes particularly lit up at the mention of strawberry flavoured dairy.
“Oh wow, that’s a lot,” Laila said, “You sure that wouldn’t be a bit much? We don’t wanna eat all your food!”
“Nah, I’ll just have to go home a few days early,” Their host graciously continued to hand out the snacks, “I bring more than I need just in case I get extra hungry.”
“Goodness me,” Laila blinked as she was handed a sandwich. She wasn’t even going to ask what was inside the bread that wrapped the whole thing like a Panini; she didn’t want to insult the man’s kindness. “You’re as kind as you are good-lookin’, stranger.”
“For one, call me Casey,” The man said with a slight smile and a blush as he doled out the food and drink, allowing Kenny to hold the carton of milk he was obviously excited to get his hands on, “For two, I’m just helping out some fellow campers. I’d like to think anyone would do the same.”
“We sure haven’t seen anyone else around here,” Kenny said and then took a few big gulps from the opened milk. He sighed when he’d withdraw from the drink and hand the carton aside to Quincey as he rubbed his lips against his forearm to wipe away the excess.
“No, I heard Harbington went on lockdown,” Casey noted, “I don’t know why. Where are you guys from? You’re a long way away from home.”
“Uh…” Kenny blinked and looked to Laila.
“Locksmouth,” Laila immediately put forth, her mouth full of granola and mixed berries from the bar she was eating, “We got dropped off out here. Harbington’s got the best autumn.”
“Oh-ho, we think alike,” Casey smiled at Laila, “Great minds think alike. Either that or poor minds never differ; but either way I like the way you think.”
“Oh stop,” Laila presented a giggle.
“I needed some time away from Locksmouth myself,” Casey continued as he settled into a crossed-leg position, “So I took one of my annual camping trips early and came out here. After that whole alien fiasco, I’m just happy to be out here. But, uh, moving on… Are you guys heading to the rest station? It’s not far from here.”
“Yeah, we were,” Kenny nodded. He reached aside then and wrapped an arm around Quincey’s shoulders to hug her close to him, “But this one isn’t feeling too well. It must be her blood sugar.”
Quincey blushed terribly, but nodded a few times. “Y-Yeah… I’m sorry to have to eat your food, Casey,” She said, “But when my food got washed away down the river, I didn’t have anything to eat. As Kenny said, my blood sugar can get a little low. I started feeling really weak.”
Casey raised a hand, “Oh no, I totally get it. If that’s the case I’m happy to help. Really, I think now-a-days we should be helping each other out more.”
“Amen,” Laila smiled, “Honestly it seems like people’re as nervous as a goat in a hurricane. Suppose that happens when a buncha aliens show up outta nowhere though.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Casey groaned, “You’d think people would be more willing to come together after something like that.
“It’s funny how something like that can leave people suspicious of each other…” Quincey sighed, “… Unwilling to trust.”
“I suppose ‘funny’ is one way to put it,” Casey shrugged. He took a look around the fire and noticed that the group had started to crinkle up wrappers and bags, so it was obvious they had quickly inhaled what had been given to them. “So… You know if Harbington’s on lockdown, nobody is going to come from out there, right?” He’d then ask, “There should be enough food in the rest station to last the night and morning, but after that I don’t know where you’re going to go.”
“We’re going to meet someone part-way who can take us back,” Quincey said.
Casey nodded slowly, seeming to mull over the idea of sending them away. He just couldn’t decide against it though – the rest station would have more to offer them than he did. “So this will be a brief visit then,” He said with a little smile, “Well then, you don’t have to stick around here. You should probably get going before it gets too late.”
“Yeah,” Kenny agreed, standing up and brushing the crumbs of his sandwich off his pants, “But hey, thanks Casey.”
“Don’t mention it,” Casey raised a hand modestly again as the wandering teens prepared to get up and wander some more. He watched them get ready and even half-smirked as they uncomfortably fumbled with the left-over wrappers and garbage from their eating. He’d let them leave it there and deal with it himself, and instead he ushered them along on their way. As they left and waved their goodbyes however, Casey blinked a few times.
“The station’s not that way,” He gestured in the opposite direction they were going, and they all paused for a moment and looked at each other.
“O-Oh, right,” Laila grinned, “Silly us.”
Casey then watched them all turn and shuffle the other way, bumbling about like the slightly awkward teens they were. They said their goodbyes again, with waves and smiles, and seemed to disappear into the forest no sooner than they had arrived. They didn’t even say anything as they filed out, the silence coming off as all the more awkward to Casey, who was left sitting there at his fire. The leopard rested a hand on his head to rub it in a tell-tale gesture of confusion, shaking his head in slight disbelief.
“Odd bunch,” He said to himself, “Nice though.”
Ultimately, he shrugged. He turned off the fire he’d started and rose to gather up the garbage left behind in the teens’ wake before crawling back into his tent.
-
--
-
The pack of kids only went maybe twenty feet in the direction Casey had pointed them in before turning and making for the river again. They’d continue to follow it once they found the rushing water with their lights from the PET screens guiding the way. They crept silently as possible through the night with renewed vigor and higher spirits. Next on their list of things to do was finding somewhere to rest… somewhere the police wouldn’t think to look. Fortunately they had the dark on their side – the night was a little cloudy, making moonlight scarce and visibility low. Wherever they decided to rest, odds were it would be hard to see them.
The idea was to rest near one of the stations. Along with camping areas, there were a number of stops set up throughout the wilderness for campers no different than they had pretended to be. If someone was in trouble or went a little too far for themselves, the public-access rest stations were there with shelter and food to act as a place to regain one’s bearings or await assistance. Harbington had a team of Rangers who would assist stranded hikers or campers normally, but with the dome on Lockdown they would have been recalled for their own safety, much like Casey had mentioned. Perhaps there were one or two left though to make sure campers like Casey didn’t get into any trouble… but there was no doubt those Rangers would be distracted helping the police with their search.
So the rest station was not an option, but if they could at least have one nearby while staying out of sight, they could lift some food from it in the morning. The trip to the nearest one wasn’t short – the stations were sometimes placed anywhere between a half-mile to a whole mile away from one another. It really depended on the environment and how likely someone was to get stranded in a particular area. Being only a few good hours away from the Harbington dome wasn’t the sort of place people would get stranded, and so the teens found themselves needing to walk particularly far in the dark.
The police had halted their search by that point. It was never wise to go outside the immediate area of disappearance at night, making things work more in the pack’s benefit. Benefit or no, there was still plenty to keep in mind: such as the fact that a small head-start would only do so well. The roads leading to and from Harbington made travelling along the woods easy for the police, meaning the group had to stay well within the thick forest just to make things harder on their would-be pursuers. Such a thing made the walk all the more difficult for them, resulting in many stubbed toes and trips over roots and stones.
They walked for a couple of hours, perhaps. It was difficult to keep track of time with the sky being so cloudy and the moon’s position being obscured. The murky sky was bad enough that even the lights from the Ring Space Station were hard to make out at times, whereas they would normally be dotting the sky almost like a path. It actually did help hikers and night-time travelers keep their way on clearer nights, but the trip the pack was on didn’t seem to want to be that simple. Quincey had been trying to ignore the ache in her thighs for well over an hour, but it always crept back in with the thought that if she wanted to live, she would be working hard for it. To say she wasn’t used to pushing herself so hard just to live would be an understatement.
“I can’t walk anymore…!” She whined, breaking the silence that had set in, “We need to stop!”
“We can’t stop,” Daxton would answer, “This doesn’t look like a good spot.”
The trees had thinned out, creating small clearings of mostly flat ground and an open view towards the sky. They were far too exposed there, even if a cursory glance of the area revealed no man-made light. The dome was out of sight, no campers were anywhere near the area, and the next rest station seemed to be under half a mile away according to PET GPS readings. Despite all this, Quincey let out a pitiful whine and let her weight drop. She fell to her knees on the ground and hung her head, catching her breath.
“Quinn, come on!” Kenny turned to the girl, “You knew this would be a trip!”
“Come on, sweetie,” Laila took on a gentler tone, “We’re tired too, but you can walk another little bit. It’s not that far. What is it that you guys say? ‘Never say you can’t,’ right?”
The pudgy porker groaned and fell forwards into almost a bowing position, though her fists were clenched in frustration. “I can’t, I can’t… I’m so tired, I’m starting to feel sick,” She bemoaned her situation. Indeed, after collapsing during their escape she wasn’t feeling any better. The food and brief rest helped at Casey’s camp site, but she was pushing herself to such an extent she’d begun to feel nauseous.
“Quincey, are you really starting to feel that bad?” Daxton asked, kneeling down to rest a hand on her back and rub it.
“Daxton, come on,” Kenny huffed.
Quincey nodded and looked up at the corgi boy with pleading eyes.
Daxton quietly sighed, but gently caressed Quincey’s back. “Then maybe we should stop,” He decided.
“Damnit Daxton!” Kenny shouted, immediately stepping in and throwing his arms up, “Don’t let her just get away with whatever she wants! We can’t just stop! She’s got an alien in her! An alien that’s gonna kill her! We can’t stop! She’s gotta move whether she likes it or not!”
It wasn’t the first time Kenny had ever chastised Daxton for favouring Quincey, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Quincey was notorious for needing to rest or take a break when engaging in physical activity for too long, and that was to be expected; but Kenny was the sort to push and get a little bit more out of the girl whenever those sorts of situations arose. The situation they currently found themselves in, however, was not one where Daxton would back down. Quincey was pale and obviously weak, and that more than worried the corgi.
“She was practically white when we got out of Harbington. We’ve pushed her far enough,” Daxton said sternly as he turned his attention to Kenny, “She’s not feeling well. If we make her collapse again it’s going to set us back more.”
“And who the hell left you in charge anyway?!” Kenny glared, “It’s NOT that far! She’ll be fine until we get closer to the next station!”
“She says she won’t!” Daxton stood, gesturing to the exhausted porker in question, “Maybe we can make it that far, but she can’t! She’s--!”
“Fat.”
They boys stopped as Quincey cut in. She sat up, but kept her eyes squarely on the ground. “I’m fat and lazy, I know,” She said, “I’m useless. I wish I was more like you.”
Laila stepped forwards and knelt down to Quincey to embrace the poor girl. Kenny blinked a few times, his expression softening. “Hey,” He said, “Don’t say things like that.”
“But it’s true!” She bellowed right back, “Even Duplex said that compared to you guys, I’m nothing.”
That had been bothering Quincey since the journey’s outset. She realized quickly that she was unprepared for just how long she’d have to be outside the dome; it was obvious she hadn’t thought the idea through as much as she should have. In a way they were all guilty of that, but Quincey felt the most responsible. She felt as if it was her fault for coming into contact with Duplex. No matter how many times her friends assured her, she just knew that deep down that they never would have wanted to go and that even if she didn’t actively try to, she forced them to act.
The strain she felt was far more than just tired legs and hard breathing.
“Well Duplex can go sit on a tack!” Kenny glowered, “That’s not what I--”
“What did you mean, then?” Daxton cut the boy off, much to the lemming’s frustration, “Because to me it sounded like you were saying she’s a spoiled brat.”
“What?! No! I just…!”
Quincey was also responsible for what was going on at that exact moment. Daxton and Kenny were fighting – again – and it was all her fault. But all she could do was sit there with Laila as it all played out, unable to say a word edgewise. She was so tired.
Daxton stepped right up close to Kenny and looked down at him. “Listen, Kenny,” He said, “Quincey didn’t choose to do this. If she had to pick between this and dying, then she didn’t really pick anything at all. And she’s the one with an alien in her, not you. If she says she can’t go any further, then we stop.”
“I just don’t want to be found,” Kenny barked back, “Look, I know she… I know that she gets tired easier than us, and I know that she’s got an alien in her, but if we get woken up by a swift neu-rod to the ass and get dragged back then we would have come out here for nothing. We would have crashed a truck for nothing and beat up a couple of cops for nothing, and lied to some guy for nothing!”
“And if she passes out we would have walked all the way out here for nothing too,” Daxton said.
“Boys?” Laila spoke up, looking down at Quincey who was then resting soundly against her chest. The girl was out like a light, “Girl’s gone n’ clocked out.”
Quincey had drifted away, unable to cling to whatever consciousness she had left. It was so natural how she’d rested her head upon Laila’s bosom that the giraffe didn’t even notice that the girl had fallen asleep for a minute at least. She didn’t even do it on purpose, truth told, but she’d finally gotten away from herself.
Daxton shot Kenny a look indicated only by the slanted look of displeasure over his lips. The lemming boy rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay,” He said, “We stop.”
