Chapter Fourteen
No wonder she hadn’t been able to read the graffiti—it had been written in an alien language. “What does it say?” she asked.
“It’s over,” he said.
“Over? What to do you mean?”
“The Earth campaign is over. Progg-Res has conceded defeat. The command ship returned home.”
“The Progg are gone?” she asked incredulously, her heart thudding. “Gone for good?”
He nodded.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because Grav says so. As an aide to the Earth campaign commander, he’s in a position to know.”
“But you’re here. And I nearly got killed by a Progg in St. Louis.”
“We were…left behind. With communications down, many are probably unaware the General Ministry called off the campaign.” His expression turned grim. “This explains why we lost contact with other units. If we can’t ping a signal off the command ship, we can’t communicate.”
“Then, how would your brother know?”
“They would have notified him the ship was leaving.”
Earth communications were down, too, thanks to the Progg, so there was no way to get a big-picture view of the situation.
But she’d walked and ridden hundreds of miles, a thousand miles, passing through once-vibrant cities turned into ghost towns.
In the early days of the invasion while there’d still been internet and TV, she’d seen entire city populations vanish in the blink of an eye.
New York City. Los Angeles. Washington, D.C.
Houston. Tokyo. Auckland. London. Moscow. Beijing.
And now there was no electricity. No planes flew overhead. Very few survivors. The trio had been the first people she’d encountered in months.
“Why retreat? You won.” She gestured at the deserted street, dented cars scattered helter-skelter, the overgrown landscaping, weeds popping up through sidewalk cracks. “Do you see any people here other than me?”
“Do you see any other Progg?” he replied in a quiet voice.
“I encountered one a few days ago in St. Louis. I assumed the regiments moved on to vanquish another area.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “They died.”
Dead? The invaders were dead? Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“Before communications shut down, we’d heard from other units, men were getting sick and dying. Then the men in my unit fell ill and died. I’m the only one left alive.”
“That’s when you decided to look for your brother.” She’d thought it was odd he’d just walked away from his unit.
“Yes.”
“What did they die of?”
“An Earth disease. We tried to treat it with our portable med units, but it didn’t do any good.”
“How many Progg are still here alive?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know…not many.”
In the past week, she’d encountered a total of seven humans, but only two Progg. One shouldn’t draw conclusions from such limited data, but what if he was right?
Mixed feelings assailed her. The invincible appeared to have been vanquished, and Rok had been abandoned by his military.
She felt incongruously sorry for him yet filled with vengeful glee.
The invaders had gotten what they deserved.
We won. We fucking won! The aliens would be outnumbered.
We might survive. We could eliminate the remaining Progg and rebuild.
She wondered exactly what had killed them. Had to be something viral, communicable, and airborne, given the limited physical contact between their two species. A cold? The flu? COVID? Maybe China did the world a favor after all.
What if the Progg on the command ship had been infected and carried the disease to their home world?
Oh, Karma, my bitchy friend, I love you. You do such excellent work.
“You’re smiling,” Rok said. “You rejoice in this.”
“Can you blame me?”
From what he’d had shared of his upbringing, the Progg never had a chance to become decent beings. The young were brainwashed into hardened killing machines. It made the invasion understandable, but it did not excuse it. She gave no free passes for genocide.
“I do not rejoice in your personal loss. I can empathize with being left behind on an alien world. But am I happy your people got what they had coming? Hell, yes! You—and I mean your people—damn near wiped out the entire human race.”
He might never reunite with his brother, but at least Rok had family. “You think because you lost, we can shake hands and be friends? I don’t think so. What you did was unforgivable.”
“You and I cannot be friends?”
“I don’t know.” Her feelings toward him were complicated, mixed up, fucked up.
If he hadn’t been a Progg, she would have thought him decent and nice.
He’d been exceptionally polite and accommodating.
He’d never laid a finger on her—he’d given her his weapon!
He expressed an almost-childlike wonder in Earth, and she’d never forget his laughter when he’d mastered riding a bicycle.
He seemed…sweet, almost vulnerable. She would have enjoyed spending time with him, learning more about him.
Fully aware of what his people had done, she still liked him.
She hated the aliens but couldn’t despise him.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say, “let’s be friends. ”
“I understand,” he said.
She tore her gaze away from the sadness in his eyes and focused on the sign. There seemed to be a lot of writing. “What exactly did your brother say? Can you read his message to me?”
“It says, ‘This is Grav, aide to Admiral Drek. The admiral is dead. GM has aborted the campaign. Progg are to cease engagement. There will be no extraction. We go in peace to water grassland.’”
“We? Who’s we? His regiment?”
“No. They’re all dead. I found his camp.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t know.”
“But he’s with another Progg,” she said.
“Or a human,” he suggested.
“What does he mean by water grassland?”
“I was hoping you knew.”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.” Kevin snuffled around in the tall weeds. She’d need to check him for ticks. Her bike leaned against the trash can; Rok’s lay on the sidewalk. “Here.” She shoved the holster at him.
I must be crazy to give the enemy his weapon back.
She believed him when he said he didn’t have the stomach to kill, suspecting that somehow the indoctrination had failed to take.
But this turn of events put his life in more jeopardy than hers.
Once people learned the big vaporizer in the sky was gone, and the alien numbers had been drastically reduced, it would be open season with no hunting limits.
People didn’t have electricity, but they had guns and plenty of ammo.
Anybody with a gun would try to shoot him.
If he defended himself, the person would die.
She would hate for him to be killed, but Earth couldn’t afford to lose more people.
Except maybe colluders. Eradicating those vermin might do humanity a favor.
She hoped the St. Louis Progg had caught up with Zack.
“What will you do now?” What am I going to do? New possibilities had opened up since the world had gotten suddenly and considerably safer, although the danger hadn’t completely passed. The remaining Progg were probably unaware their invasion had been canceled due to illness.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“Let’s go get food. We don’t have to decide right this second.”
“All right,” he said dispiritedly.
Her emotions skipped all over the place. Kind and empathetic, she felt for people who were hurting, and Rok had suffered a disheartening blow. He’d gotten confirmation his brother lived—but learned he’d been abandoned by his people.
But she couldn’t forget his people had murdered billions of hers.
“Kevin, come on!” she called.
After settling the dog in the carrier, she checked the local street map she’d gotten at the Big Creek Chamber of Commerce in the square. It was one of those advertising circulars aimed at tourists and out-of-towners. Local businesses bought ads, and, in return, their business was marked on the map.
Rok wheeled his bike over. “What are you looking at?”
“A local map. I’m hoping I’ll see a grocery store.”
She scanned the alphabetical index. There was a long list of Bs.
Big Creek Animal Hospital, Big Creek Bar and Grill, Big Creek General Hospital, Big Creek RV repair, Big Creek Supermarket!
Located at F-4. With her finger, she followed the vertical and horizontal axes.
“If we turn left at the cross street, there’s a grocery store several blocks up.
” She did not look forward to entering the store. “I hope you don’t mind mice.”
“What are mice?”
“They’re tiny rodents. Vermin. They shit all over everything.
They reproduce like crazy. They’ve invaded grocery stores.
” In small towns, anyway. Larger cities were much less infested, the rats, mice, cockroaches, and all manner of vermin only now starting to return after having been exterminated along with the people. “You don’t have vermin on Progg-Res?”
“Nothing like what you’ve described. We don’t even have a word for those things.”
The Progg were the vermin, spreading death and destruction across the galaxy.
“Not everything translates,” he said. “What you call an automobile, we call a ground crawler. They’re not exactly the same, but both are rolling motorized vehicles. Some concepts or names have no comparable words, so our translator substitutes a description.”
“So, water grassland isn’t the name itself; it’s a descriptive approximation.”
“Possibly.”
“Let’s go to the store. I’ll show you some mice.”
She hopped on her bike. At the corner, she hung a left onto Main Street. Along the boulevard, they passed a hospital, a hardware store, and a donut shop, all named after the town. “Can Big Creek be translated directly?” she asked.
“Yes. We don’t have a specific place called Big Creek, but we do have words for creek and words for large.”
But water grassland was a description. So, what might it stand for? I wonder how they would describe Palm Beach? Tree with fronds on sandy shore? Or Hollywood? Prickly bush of fibrous material often seen at a holiday celebrating an Earth religion?
Businesses had posted handwritten signs in the windows. WE SHALL WIN and DEFEAT THE ALIEN BASTARDS.
We did. We defeated the alien bastards. Technically, a disease did, but I’ll take the win, she thought and resumed trying to crack the code.
Water. Water. Water could signify ocean, sea, lake, river, rain, pond, pool. Riverdale, Lakewood, Liverpool. Ocean City.
Grassland could mean prairie? Or Savannah. No Savannahs around here though. Prairie didn’t feel right either. Think smaller. What else has grass? Golf courses. Parks. Football fields.
Field. Water…field?
“Springfield!” She braked. “He went to Springfield.”
Rok stopped. “What is that?”
“It’s a city about forty miles from here.” The sun shone directly overhead. “It’s about noon. We could be there by dinnertime.”
“We? Does that mean you’ll come with me?”
Royal “we” or Freudian slip? Had she unconsciously decided to accompany him? To help him because she worried about him? Felt bad for him?
If she didn’t go, what would she do instead?
Stay in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere with only a dog for company?
She could try to find her mom’s friend’s house, but why?
What then? She couldn’t stand to be alone for the rest of her life.
She had to connect with other people, or she’d go crazy.
It was already happening. It testified to how starved she’d become for companionship that she was hanging out with a Progg.
Springfield had been on her destination list as a place to search for other survivors. While Rok searched for his brother, she could look for other people.
There were still aliens who hadn’t gotten the ceasefire memo. Rok would keep her safe; however, she doubted she could protect him from her people. If armed, they’d shoot him on sight. Her, too. They’d mistake her for a colluder.
With him, I’m safer from the Progg, but more in danger from humans.
Unless I approach them first? Explain the situation. Wave a white flag.
I wanted to go to Springfield anyway.
His shoulders slumped. His silver skin had grayed a little.
“Yes, I’ll go with you,” she said, and watched him literally brighten.
Her mood lightened then dipped when guilt stabbed her. I shouldn’t be helping him, shouldn’t feel happy that I am. What’s wrong with me?
“Let’s go to the grocery store,” she said tersely and pushed off.