Invasion

31

She wasn’t the only one wandering. Maya had seen several people as she’d walked down countless hallways inside the base, each one looking much like the last. Some of the doors had been left open, others locked, and some were being guarded by soldiers with guns. Drugs or ammo, she thought. There wouldn’t be anything else inside of Fort Campbell that they’d feel was valuable enough to guard—not once the mess hall had been locked.

She’d passed a few people, but those few had kept their eyes to the floor or given her a quick, plastic smile—the kind you reserved for the family of the deceased in a funeral home.

Finding her kids. That had been her only goal for so long. Maya had given everything she had, sacrificing herself and others to get back to Laura and Aiden. She had always known they were the most important things in her life, and now there was no doubt. Holding them, and even hearing their voices, brought her a taste of the sense of normalcy that had ended when that damn dome had dropped on Nashville.

But having her kids nearby didn’t make things easier. In some ways, it made them worse. More complicated.

The rec room lights were on and Maya walked on past, glancing in at two teenagers playing ping pong. She smiled and paused to listen to them making fun of each other in that good-natured way that teenagers will—rarely. And then she turned away and continued down the corridor.

How long could this last? Even if they weren’t under attack, what was a realistic expectation for the lights staying on? How much food did they have? Clearly, medication and ammo were already low enough that at least some rooms needed to be guarded.

No, they couldn’t stay here. Even without the imminent and inevitable return of the aliens, they couldn’t stay. And couldn’t the spaceship train a laser on this base at any moment? Sure, the soldiers had some defenses and had been able to use the big lights to turn back a few attacks, but what if the aliens decided it was time to take out this anthill once and for all? What if an entire fleet showed up, lasers blasting?

The questions came faster as Maya’s pace picked up. So much for a restful afternoon before dinner.

She’d been walking through so many corridors that she couldn’t quite tell which ones she’d already been down and which ones she hadn’t. It wasn’t until she recognized the bandana tied to the door handle, the one that had been around Reno’s neck, that she began to realize how few choices remained. He was probably in there resting, like she should have been. Or maybe he was plotting to leave.

If they couldn’t stay here, though, where would they go?

She’d seen what had happened to Nashville, the death and destruction that would take decades to recover from even if the aliens high-tailed it back to their cosmic home tonight. And her city wasn’t the only place with a dome. From what she’d heard, many cities across the globe had been domed, and most of those domes were still in place.

Would she whisk Aiden and Laura away to a cabin in the mountains somewhere? An abandoned farmhouse in southern Ohio? Then what? Maya wasn’t exactly made for country living unless working on a Mustang counted as being a rancher. And even if she could find such a place, and even if the aliens couldn’t, what would come next? She couldn’t imagine the three of them getting her mother and then living the rest of their natural lives milking cows, churning butter, and strumming an acoustic guitar around the campfire at night.

Reno wanted to leave, and she knew he’d take her and the kids with him. But he hadn’t seen what Luke, Cameron, and Maya had seen on the road. It wasn’t just the aliens anymore. Roving gangs of rapists and thieves had filled the space between law and extraterrestrial threats. Just because you left the base and found a secluded place to live didn’t mean you were safe.

It was hard to tell what Gerald wanted, either, and as much as she’d warmed up to Cameron, the girl was still his puppet. Gerald would be loyal to his men, and he’d clearly achieved some level of rank after things had gone south. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was still the father of her children, and he had a right to have some input in what was next for them.

At some point, Maya’s feet had brought her back to her room, its door open and the light on. The hard, fluorescent lights and military-grade mattress didn’t inspire visits from the sandman.

She stepped inside, shut the door, and laid down on the bed. Maya had never been much of an afternoon napper, but intellectual strain had brought a fatigue that might fade with a few stolen hours before dinner. She set an alarm to go off in ninety minutes, shut the lights off, and pulled the cover over her head.