Pow, pow, pow, pow.

“Those were gunshots!”

I hear screaming over the speaker. I can’t see much from the slit. I’m behind the stage, and close to the outer barricade. But the people I do see are running.

I jump out of bed, feel around the floor for my blue jeans and yank them back on.

“Where’s my—there’s my shirt—Ouh!” I hit my head on the bottom of a cupboard on the other side of the trailer’s interior.

“Will you open the door now?” I say, slipping into my boots.

Pow, pow, pow, pow!

Xeno doesn’t respond.

I look at my hand in the dark. “Xeno.”

“No,” he says.

My eyebrows lower and I stare at the lips for a moment. It’s too dark to make out any details, but he knows I’m looking at him.

“What are you talking about? Why not?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

I make a fist and pound it on the wall.

“There are people out there, I could help—we could help them. Open the door, Xeno!”

“Even if you could help a few, what’s going to happen when they capture you? Huh, Jack? You want to get sent back up to Dougway? Or worse?”

“I’m sure the earthquake took care of Dugway,” I say. “Let me out, Xeno!”

“Oh, it’s still there, and in working order. I can still sense some of my crystals up there.”

I walk back and forth, my heart pounding in my chest, my lungs on fire.

Pow, pow, pow, pow!

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because, Jack,” he says in an uncharacteristically calm tone. “One of us has to be the smart one. We need to stop rushing into things.”

“You’re afraid.”

“Of course I’m afraid. I’ve never been mortal before, not in the way that you conceive of mortality anyway. But that’s not why. We have to be—”

“Xeno, I swear, if you don’t let me out—”

“What? He says. “What are you going to do? Stick a rod down my throat? Slap me on the wall again like a child? What are you, seven years old?”

Pow, pow, pow, pow!

I sit down on the couch, huffing.

“Fine. When then?”

“I don’t know. When it feels safer.”

“You’re a liar, you know that?”

“It’s a new concept for me, so please, Jack, enlighten me on how, exactly, I’m lying to you.”

“You don’t really care about saving humanity. You just care about yourself.”

“Jack, I’m the only one of my siblings, in the end, that actually gave a crap about you little humans. It’s the reason I got blown out of the sky, and why I’m stuck here with you now. So don’t go accusing me of not caring—”

Pow, pow.

The sound is so close it makes me jump.

I suck in a breath and close my eyes and simply sit there. It’s all I can do at the moment, thanks to the alien in my hand, besides stare out of the slit in the wall. A part of me knows that Xeno has a point. Caution is paramount. But at the same time …

Ten, twenty minutes pass. I don’t even know how much time. Feels like hours. The noise outside dies down, save the occasional vehicle peeling out and driving away.

“Xeno,” I say, as calm as I can manage. “Can you sense anything going on out there?”

“Not very well.”

“It sounds like it’s settling.”

“Agreed.”

“Can you let me out now?”

“Not yet.”

I feel my fists and rectum clench up involuntarily in response.

I force myself to let go, suck in a deep, deep calming breath. And let it out as slowly as I can.

I clear my throat, finding inner zen, and say, “How about now?”

“Jack, I’m not going to—”

There’s a high, very defined scream near the trailer. I spin around and flip open the flap.

I see Doctor Brock and Belle. They’re being shoved along roughly through the scattering of tents and trailers behind the stage by seven men dressed in dark attire, all carrying semi automatics.

“They’re headed this way,” I whisper.

I strain my face and eyes as far as they could go to the side until all of them are out of view.

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I drop the flap. “They’re going to kill them, Xeno.”

No response.

I stand up, walk towards the back door.

“You’re not going to start banging on the door, are you?”

“I’m not an idiot, Xeno. I’m not going to attract attention,” I say, feeling around in the dark for something—anything that might resemble a handle or a lever or latch. I find the slit where the double doors split. I try to pry it open with my finger tips to no avail.

I press my ear to the door. “Can you hear better if I do this?” I say.

“Yes, actually,” says Xeno.

“And?”

“It feels like … well, they’ve stopped walking. I think maybe they’ve gone into a tent or … wait, no I hear them again. They’re making their way towards the rocky incline, that slope back there behind the RVs.”

“Okay? What else? Is that it?”

“They’re talking now. It’s distant. I can’t make it out.”

“Xeno, I’m so tired of feeling helpless and useless and confined. Let me out and I’ll do whatever you say. Your call. You’re the boss. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m supposed to save them. Or at least try. I can’t explain it. Call it destiny, call it whatever. It’s some deep, deep human thing that language can’t even express. You gotta let me out, buddy. Come on.”

There’s a deep gurgling groan from Xeno, then, “I know I'm going to regret this.”

His appendage slips out and I hear it connect with the metal. There’s some straining and the door creaks open a crack.

“You rock, pal,” I whisper, popping my head out.

The alien lets out another muffled groan.

I can see the group—just the tops of their black hats—over there, huddled together along the far side of the biggest RV. I hop down, close the trailer door as quietly as possible.

I scurry through the tents, zig-zagging, staying as low as possible until I’m close enough to hear what they’re saying. There’s no one else around, I notice. Not this far back behind everything.

One of the men says: “Sir, please confirm your instructions?”

There’s a static sound and a click. He’s apparently calling someone with authority, asking what to do next.

“Captain, you heard me,” comes a deep, scratchy voice over the comm. More static, then, “You have a green light to neutralize.”

“Copy that,” says the captain, although he doesn’t sound excited about it. In fact he sounds rather concerned.

“Okay, buddy, get ready to spit,” I say, then pop my head up over the top of a low tent. I’m maybe twenty yards away. It’s hard to make out what’s happening with only the tops of their heads in view. I don’t see any of the Brocks anymore.

I hold out my hand and say, “pick one, aim, and hawk that lugi.”

There’s a gun-cocking sound in the distance from the group.

“You forgot to say the code w—”

“Aubergine, whatever! Just do it!”

As quick as lightning, Xeno extends upwards and spits. I don’t see him hit his target but the screaming that follows confirms the hit.

Xeno slides back in and I go running.

There’s a commotion. Men yelling at each other. Boots stomping around. The air fills with panic and profanity.

I slide around the big RV and up to the passenger side door. I pull the handle and it opens. I hop in, close the door, and slink into the driver’s seat. The window is up, but if I crane my neck to the side I can see the Brocks. Both of them are on their knees, hands on their heads, backs against the RV.

There’s one guy visible, holding the father and daughter at gunpoint.

“Can you reach that guy?” I say.

“Easily,” says Xeno, “then he bursts out of my hand. The glass window shatters—something I didn’t expect—and Xeno snaps around. He grabs the back of the guy’s neck and whips him backward. And pulls him up and in through the window.

I have to stumble up and backwards over the middle console so that Xeno can pull the struggling man all the way inside. Once his feet are inside, Xeno lets go, only to slam back down into the man’s throat. With a gluteal yank and twist, the man’s esophagus slaps up against the inside of the windshield.

My eyes go wide. “Holy—”

“Get his gun, Jack.”

For a moment, all I can do is blink. Even though I’m no stranger to this kind of violence and gore, it’s extremely difficult to master one’s fight or flight instinct.

I snap out of it and grab the semi auto. As I do, a door at the rear of the RV swings open and a man stomps up the stairs.

The instant I see him I pull the trigger. It’s more of a reaction than a decisive decision to shoot. The recoil is enough to knock me off balance and I trip backwards onto the dead man with a wet thud. A quick gasp and a glance up to confirm the second one is dead, or at least on the floor at the back of the RV.

I look to my left, through the passenger side window. I see a man weaving through the tents in my direction. So I pull myself over onto the driver seat, open the door, and step out.

Well, it’s more of a flop out.

My right foot gets tangled up with the dead man’s leg, which is hanging half-hazardly next to the gas pedal, and I land on my back in the dirt.

Belle and Doctor Brock are still huddled together on their knees, the father shielding the daughter.

I’m about to say something like, “Hey, guys, how are you holding up?” or something stupid like that when Xeno whips out of my hand, slithers under the driver side door of the RV, and curves around to the front of the massive vehicle.

I hear a grunt, shots fired, and a recoil in my arm. Then a wall of dust hits my face as a body hits the ground near the front grill.

Xeno slithers back inside my arm, but drops the man’s gun next to my head on the way in.

I grab the second gun and scramble to my feet.

“Come on,” I say, waving the Brocks over to me.

They look around then Belle jumps up and pulls her Dad to his feet.

“Here,” I say, offering them both a semi automatic.

“What about you?” says Belle.

“I’ve got something even more dangerous,” I say.

“How many more are there?” says Doctor Brock.

“Around the back, Jack!” yells Xeno.

I spin around just as a black caps pops out from behind the back of the RV.

It’s too late to even aim, let alone fire anything the man’s way, including Xeno.

The man points his gun at us and then—

Something else pops out from behind the RV and collides with the man so fast and so hard it knocks him to the ground.

“Gus!” I shout.

The man’s gun flies out of his hands and bounces at our feet.

“Get off!” the man shouts, trying to pull his forearm free of the dog’s grip. Then I see him pull a pistol from his side and—

Pow, pow, pow

I blink, my eyes wide.

The man is suddenly on his side, unmoving.

I turn to the source of the gunfire to see Belle standing next to me, still aiming at the man.

She lowers her gun and looks at me.

I’m about to say something when Xeno shouts, “Last one’s directly on the other side of the RV.”

I squat down, and can see feet running towards the RV on the other side. I reach for him and Xeno bursts out of my hand, slithers underneath the RV, and catches the man’s heel as he’s jumping up the steps to enter inside the RV.

Xeno yanks him down.

The man lands on his back with a thud, and has half a second to scream before Xeno pulls him underneath the RV and out to our side.

Belle lets out a strangled squeak and looks away as Xeno cocks back, like a snake about to strike, then dives into the man’s neck. Doctor Brock steps back and looks away as well.

The man wiggles back and forth a few times resisting the inevitable as Xeno digs through, tearing muscles and tendons.

Finally, the man falls still and Xeno returns to my arm.

“Oh, I’m going to be sick,” says Belle.

I hear grunts behind me.

I turn around to find the man who took a spit-glob to the face. His skin and facial muscles are nearly melted to the bone.

He reaches for me, slowly.

Doctor Brock steps up beside me, aims his gun, and puts the man out of his misery.

“Perhaps,” says Doctor Brock. “I owe you an apology.”

Belle appears at my other side. “And perhaps, daddy, we can be better listeners.”