Sira sits squished between Rani’s broad shoulders and the interior part of the truck that juts out to divide the cab from the rear. The back seats are positioned along the walls, facing each other, so that Sira faces Karim. Next to him are Lionel and Therese, with Mikael pressed into the corner on the other side of Rani. The only other people are the driver, who had come out with Karim, and one in the passenger seat who never left the vehicle.
No one has said a word.
Everyone in the back is secured with bulky, four-point safety belts that poke into anything without an adequate barrier. The hard material of the truck’s interior is cold against the bare sections of Sira’s skin where it isn't touching the meager cushioning. The exposed parts of Rani’s suit are made up of something unexpectedly smooth and rubbery, but the much less pliable bits of armor dig into Sira’s skin. Rani seems to be aware of it, although she hasn’t said anything, as she has her shoulders rounded as tightly as she can in the confined space.
It’s barely any room to breathe. The respirator mask on their face doesn’t help that fact. They put it back on to avoid any more gawking, but it’s more restrictive than it’s worth right now. Maybe it’s a blessing that they were just given the respirator and not one of the suits, since now that Sira is getting a closer look, the suits appear airtight. No obvious flaps or divisions to remove separate parts. No risk of anything getting out or in, other than the apparatus that allows them to breathe filtered air. It looks unpleasant, but if the alternative is exposure to the mist and becoming a phantom, then it makes sense.
They hope it won’t be too long before they’re free of this, but every minute that passes feels like an hour. Sira does all that they can to distract themself from it, but there’s only so much one can do while tightly packed into the back of an armored vehicle.
The captain has his head tilted back to look up toward the roof of the vehicle. His eyes are closed like he’s trying to sleep. The truck rocks when they hit a bump in the road – and there are a lot of bumps in the road – so Sira doubts that he is, unless he’s so used to circumstances like this that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.
There’s too much apprehension in the air, which isn’t just Sira’s discomfort talking. Someone is bound to break the silence. Sira is almost tempted to do it themself, as Karim might be able to provide them with more answers than the others could, but Rani beats them to the punch. She sits up off the seat as much as the belts allow her, tightly crossing her arms and legs.
“What are we going to do?”
With another humorless laugh, he answers her without lifting his head or even opening his eyes: “You tell me. I’m still half-expecting our guest to start transforming any second.”
Rani exchanges glances with Sira. The look on her face is sympathetic. “It’s been a few hours now; I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Well, I can’t think of any more damning evidence than what you just showed me, but I know already that it’s not going to be enough for her. We might be able to get some tests done to have documentation on hand. Whether that works out or not, our next destination will be headquarters. This is already a massive pain in my ass and the hard part hasn’t even started yet.”
Sira feels a pang of something at that. A contorting mixture of insult, since it’s not like they asked for any of this to happen, and…guilt? That doesn’t make sense, but it’s the only word they can put to that part.
“Massive pain in the ass?” Sira echoes.
Karim flinches. They wonder whether that’s because he didn’t expect them to say anything, since they haven’t said a word to him before this point, or because they freak him out. Too bad their voice still sounds pathetic. It might be that's just how their voice is always going to sound. They don't have a frame of reference for how it is normally.
He quickly recovers, straightening himself and clearing his throat. “That came out the wrong way. You aren’t what makes things difficult, but the process of addressing the situation here is a different story, on top of being able to even wrap my head around it. Does that make sense?”
That doesn’t feel much better, but Sira still nods.
“Rani filled me in a little before we departed. You look as run-ragged as I feel, and I can promise you we’re both equally eager to get this over with and return to normalcy. Although ‘normalcy’ for us is up in the air now. And as for you, she told me that you don’t remember anything from before today.”
They nod again. “I wish that I did. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” he says. His eyes wrinkle behind the lens of his helmet. It has the warmth of a hidden smile, which Sira didn’t expect. “You seem genuine. Hopefully it will come back to you soon. I don’t think you can force that kind of thing, so don’t stress over it.”
Rani lowers her chin. “I doubt the director is going to believe that part so easily.”
Confusion and worry must show on Sira’s face, as Karim cuts them off before the question forms on their lips: “She’s my boss. The big boss. The general, the commander, whatever you might call her. You’ll probably be meeting her soon enough. And Rani is right, she probably won’t take you at your word, but you can leave handling that to me.”
Sira shrinks down in their seat. The way he says it is less than enthusiastic.
“She tends to be…exacting,” he continues. “Which is why I’d like to see what the lab at the base can do before anything else happens. It’ll help to have some test results on hand, some concrete numbers and data, instead of only that display from earlier. I don’t know. I can’t fully predict how she’ll react here.”
“Test results?” They ask. Meekly.
“Bloodwork, probably,” Lionel answers, breaking his own silence as he fidgets with the folds in the sleeves of his suit. “Wish I could be there to help, but I doubt the captain’ll allow that.”
“No, I don’t get the impression that our new friend is one to want an audience for a physical exam or having a needle stuck in their arm.”
Sira shivers. “Yeah, I’d rather not.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Suit yourself,” Lionel says. “If it hurts too much or you pass out or something, don’t come crying to me about it.”
They desperately need something to shift their mind away from that image. “Is this like…the army?”
“Depends on how you define ‘army.’ Right now, most of our resources are geared towards research and infrastructure, not exterminating the phantoms,” he answers. “And we’re big. We have the most resources under our belt, control the most territory, and we’ve headed the largest restoration projects in North America since things went to hell. If you mean the Army, no, that was dissolved ages ago.”
So, things did use to be normal once, Sira thinks, but now they’re like…this.
Karim smiles again. “I am glad you ran into us before those with other allegiances. I’m not going to pretend we’re all sunshine and rainbows, but we’re not the only ones out there, and most of them aren’t as friendly as we are.”
If the expression hidden behind his mask didn’t seem earnest, Sira could’ve easily taken that as a veiled threat. It doesn’t comfort them much either way. “Phantoms aren’t the only bad thing out there, you mean,” Sira ventures.
Karim nods. “Unfortunately.”
Sira briefly looks over the masked faces that surround them in the back of the transport vehicle. Considering the state of the world, these people are still here, and from the way they talk, there are plenty of others who are surviving just as they are.
There’s at least a little comfort in that, but…
Sira wets their lips – although their mouth is still painfully dry. “I don’t…I don’t really like this. I’m grateful for being rescued, but the more you tell me, the more it seems like I’ll be treated as some kind of science experiment.”
The signs of the maybe-smile on Karim’s face disappear. Which doesn’t bode well. Sira keeps their eyes on him as a long moment of silence passes.
“If I could promise you that, I would, but ‘messy’ would be the understatement of the century for this situation. This won’t be easy. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone,” he says, speaking slowly as if he’s choosing his words with great care. “But, if you’ll allow me, there are strings I can pull to minimize any difficulty.”
Sira regards Karim warily as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together. His eyes are almost level with theirs now. It doesn’t feel condescending, only placative.
“You’ll be guaranteed food, water, shelter, and protection. It’s not going to be a vacation, but it’ll be safer and more comfortable than the alternatives. And when I say there are bad parties out there, I mean it. No one here wants to make you suffer or intentionally cause you pain – the same can’t be said for those people.”
The mention of provisions while their stomach is gnawing at them is almost enough to soothe their worries on its own – almost. “Not any unnecessary pain, you mean.”
Sira clamps their mouth shut after saying it. The statement came out with more bite than they meant it to, but Karim doesn’t even blink.
“There’s some personality in there after all.” Lionel claps his hands together, the sound muffled by the gloves of his suit and the rumble of the engine. “I like it!”
Sira shrinks further down into their seat, shaking their head. “I’m sorry. That was mean to say when you’re offering me help. And to keep me safe.”
“No harm done. I really don’t mind.” The maybe-smile returns to Karim’s face. “Besides, you might want to keep that attitude. The more you can advocate for yourself, the better. Trust me.”
I probably won’t be able to, they think, but they say nothing.
“You must get by this point that this is a big deal,” he continues, lowering his voice a touch. “Something like this couldn’t be kept secret forever, especially from someone like the director, and if this leads to a breakthrough we’ve desperately needed for decades, something that could do a lot of good and save countless lives, I couldn’t lie about it in good conscience. Could you?”
A small knot of guilt in their stomach that formed earlier tightens even more. That’s probably what he wants me to feel. Still…
“…no, I guess not.”
“I don’t want us to go assuming something like that just yet, sir,” Rani comments, her voice quiet. She glances briefly at Sira again. “That’s putting a lot on faith, on top of putting a lot of pressure, on one person.”
Sira hopes whatever expression is on their face conveys the small amount of appreciation they have for her bringing that up, even if it is just words.
“I’m aware. And you know me, I’ve never been one to get my hopes up.” He leans back in his seat – rather casually, given the conversation. “But the chance is there and that’s all I’m going to acknowledge. I’m not one for the medical or scientific side of things, so I’ll leave that to the experts.”
“I think we got a pretty good chance,” Lionel chimes in. “Although I’m not dumb enough to think it’s gonna be easy.”
Not gonna be easy. Not gonna be easy. How many times are they going to rub it in? They’re so tired. Having drifted off for a bit earlier wasn’t nearly enough recuperation to handle all of this.
“At least we have someone to be optimistic,” Karim says with a light chuckle. “All that being said, your wellbeing is important too, Sira. Maybe you can see now why I called this a pain in the ass.”
Sira doesn’t add anything else to the conversation. They massage their temples in a futile effort to stave off some of the pain from the band of tension around their head, then scan the faces sitting with them in the rear of the truck again.
Therese hasn’t spoken since everyone left the apartment. The same device she had then now sits nestled in her lap. When it was folded and closed, it looked almost like an armored briefcase. Rani seems lost in thought and Mikael’s head is angled to the ceiling. Lionel scratches at his neck, but with the material of his gloves and the rest of his uniform that covers it, it can’t be providing much relief. As for Karim, he eyes Sira for a moment longer, before he settles down and leans his head back as he was doing before.
No one here wants to make you suffer. There was sincerity in his voice when he said it, but two out of the six people here – excluding the ones in the cab – were fully prepared to put a bullet through Sira’s brain. They likely still are if it comes to it. Even if neither of them would take any joy from it.
No, I’m not letting my guard down anytime soon, Sira decides.
From how things sound right now, maybe not ever.
The truck slows, and then comes to a stop. Sira tilts themself forward to look into the cab, but all they can see from their limited view of the truck’s front windows are muddled colors that make up the flat surface of a structure blocking the vehicle’s path. The crackle of radio static breaks the silence, but Sira can’t make out what the person on the other end says.
‘Riggs’ turns his head. “What do you want us to tell them, Captain?”
Karim unbuckles himself and stands to the highest point he’s able in the cramped space. Everyone’s eyes follow him, including Sira’s. The two shift to the side as Karim pokes his head into the cab. Sira can’t see it from where they sit, but when they came in, they did glimpse a complicated device embedded into the truck’s dashboard. He grabs something attached to it by a curled cord and holds it near his mouth.
Unlike whoever spoke over the radio first, Karim’s voice is much clearer: “Eta-12 Blackbird. I’ve got some of your garrison here with me, but the rest is 8192.”
Another unintelligible response comes over the radio. Karim sighs.
“Look, you’re obviously new, but I don’t care what the major says. Search that code in your systems and what my designation means if you have to. Your superiors are failing you if they haven’t given you this information yet.”
No one says a word. Next to Sira, Rani’s boot taps against the floor. Lionel drums his fingers on one knee as he mutters something to himself. Therese closes the device she was fiddling with. Mikael remains still.
The radio crackles again, and this time Sira picks up one word: “…sorry…”
“No worries,” Karim replies. There’s a click as he hangs up the radio, then he claps his hand on the shoulder of the driver. “We’re good to go.”
There’s the sound of a buzzer from somewhere close by, then a loud, metallic creak, accompanied by a steaming hiss. Sira cranes their head to see around Karim’s figure as the structure in front of the vehicle starts to slowly slide upward.
A gate?
Karim twists himself back around to face the rest of them.
“We’ve arrived at our destination, folks. Save me the headache and try not to stand out too much.”
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