Alexander

The rage in his voice rings across my lab. I jump back as he reaches for me. His eyes blaze into me with such heat it could melt the everlasting ice covering the ground outside. "You know I can't allow you to get too close." "Let me out of here!" "You know I can't do that either." "I am here to help you. Let me out of here. Now, Alexander!" He sounds almost convincing. If I were as naïve as I was when I was younger, before it all happened, I might actually have believed him. I might have considered letting him out, but I’ve seen far too much since. I observe him momentarily as he grips the bars of his cage, his knuckles whiten as he gives them a vigorous shake. "You had that chance already. I am not the lost little boy I once was." "You have to let me go. They won't help you if you harm me,” he explains through clenched teeth, his chest heaving. I enjoy his voice cracking more than I should. He’s also right, they won't help me if I do what I know he deserves, but he's the first one that has been back since it all began and his word means nothing to me now. Not after my family was lost to the world outside these walls I am confined in. If they wanted to save any of us, they had that chance, now it is in my hands and I need to punish him for what his kind has done. I shake my head, watching him struggle more. Each tear that slips down his cheek heals, slightly, a wound I harbor deep inside. "Alexander, you know who I am, do you not? Where I come from? I cannot save even you if you harm me. They won't allow it. I am here to make things better. Trust me,” he pleads, knuckles still white around the bars. I shake my head once more. "I trust no one,” I whisper to myself. I wish I could trust him. Knowing what he is, he would typically be a great ally. When he slumps against the bars defeated I take my chance. Removing the syringe from my crisp clean white coat pocket, swiftly, I jab it into his neck. Injecting a mixture I prepared after capturing him. Unsure it would work, but after the stories I heard as a child I had a good feeling I was onto something. If not I would simply have to dispose of his body, but there are ways to cover for that. As if he had never been. He turns grabbing the wound, staring me down with his mouth hanging open. "What was that? What are you doing to me?" I wondered momentarily if it hurt, stung just a little. He would deserve that. "A concoction of some grain alcohol and a refined dose of the contagion left behind. You know, the one that nearly obliterated the human race." I grin watching the horror spread across his face. "I know it will either kill you or prove my theory. You did say you wanted to help, didn't you? You are the only one that has come back. Lucky for me, you have something I need. I couldn't let you slip through my fingers, my apologies." I turn away after he passes out on the floor of his cage, locking my lab door behind me. I venture outside remembering everything I once knew as reality. Knowing if we still had history books, the last twenty years would need to be burned from their pages. I was only seven when the invasion began and am one of only a handful who remembers who came to our salvation. I was one of the lucky ones who got to see it all in action, and someone remembers what happened. Most of the survivors seem to have vague memories as though they have chosen to block the atrocities I was unfortunate to witness; the kind that would terrify a seven-year-old while watching a horror film late at night, let alone standing just feet away from the creatures personally. I’m not sure how I survived. The one in the cage is the first one of them to return. In their place instead, we have been governed by a group of extraterrestrials who treat a majority of the human survivors as a science experiment. The rest of us simply exist in silent agreement, because it is the only way to live now. They were sent to help us. I suppose it is better than the alternative of exterminating the entire planet, the original plan. The suffering at their hands is extreme at times. Often poked and prodded more like cattle than humans. We have all but lost free range over the Earth's surface, now confined inside the walls of a compound only residing above ground due to our need for the sun. Apparently, we grew too weak underground and were not valuable to their research in that state; must have been a lack of Vitamin D. Though, we don’t get much of that above ground either these days. Once upon a time humankind thought they were superior in mind and body and that they were in control. Of course, they weren’t. Mankind too, was naïve. Outside our walls is a contagion that spread like a west coast wildfire through a majority of the survivors as result of the previous experiments held here. Experiments we were not made aware of until after the invasion. It wasn't until I began working with their group that I was informed of another species here creating mutant hybrids, but after something went wrong, they too evacuated the planet for a home in space around the same time. No one has ever fully explained who or what this other group was or why they were creating hybrids. I know a bit, not enough to tie it all together. Life on Earth has gone to s**t. Ruled by a group of aliens devoid of most emotions and driven by their appointed jobs. We are contained by walls only erected to keep the others out, the ones who were changed by the contagion. Sunlight doesn't kill them, but they need blood to thrive craving it just as you would expect them to from the old films that no longer exist. They stand helpless, blood dripping down their jaws from their recent kill as they stare vacantly in through our fences. We occasionally call them the vamps, even without their fictional speed or healing blood, they are still as dangerous as what an actual vampire might be. Moving together in groups and attacking like a hoard of zombies. The only difference is some of them aren't vacant at all. I am the only one who has noticed. Probably, because I am one of a few left with any idea of what an emotion is. My human counterparts stripped of most of theirs from the monotony of our lifestyle, shut down in an emotional coma. Their feelings buried deep, only to surface on the rarest of occasions, such as during the experiments. I watch the non vacants as they make eye contact with what little life they have left inside, pleading to come in away from the truly vacant ones. They are prisoners within their own bodies. I stand by and keep notes, finding particular interest in why these ones aren't like the others. Why even though they don't speak, they communicate with their eyes. If it weren't for the primal urge to drain the blood from my carotid I'd venture a closer look, but as it stands now I can only sit and observe. Tomorrow will tell if my theory has plausibility. If it does I might be able to find a cure and bring back the non vacant ones. At least that is the current hope. Life is lonely here, more so than when I was a child living on the family farm after the death of my parents. If only I had patience to wait for my answers after twenty years of dealing with this crap with the Amiables, a species I don’t even have a scientific classification for outside of humanoid. If it weren’t for the sickly pale green undertone in their skin and lack of differentiating features such as hair, varying height, or even eye color, they wouldn’t be much different than us. They do afford us the courtesy of wearing unimaginative robes. Neutral, everything about their species is plain, reliable, boring even, with one exception. Their eyes are all round and doe-like, running deep like a black oil slick tucked beneath their lids. Once they catch you in gaze it echoes inside your mind’s eye, almost numbing you momentarily and locking you deep in thought. Only the thought is what they tell you to think. They often communicate through telepathy avoiding any and all deep conversation with us humans. Sticking to what they know best, breeding us amongst ourselves to revive our species. Their one track agenda they never sway from. There are many failures now. Very few babies have been born in the last twenty years due to the effects the contagion had on the rest of us. Procreation has otherwise been quite idle since. I was only seven at the time it was noticed and it hadn’t occurred to me what that meant until my grandparents died and my sister was lost to the contagion. Once I was without family and on the precipice of puberty, I realized I had only one mission in life, to find a cure to bring my sister back and for us to find suitable mates to begin families with. Life would go on. I was going to see to it. I’ve seen what it was to fight for survival and like hell if I was going to let it all fall apart now. Meanwhile, the Amiables truck on like little silent troopers mixing up embryos from the last few survivors and trying to adjust their growing environment by placing them in what they assume are more suitable wombs. Really, they have no idea what they are dealing with, leaving me to work on the DNA sequencing and searching for the cure when they aren’t looking. So far nothing has begun to reverse the damage set by twenty years of exposure. Then again no one else expected the possibility of a cure. Our compound was well equipped long before the Amiables arrived. The main building was formerly the skeleton of an old big box store extended in size by walls of steel and with extensive hallways added on. These spoke out to numerous other buildings forged from similar materials, much like a wagon wheel. Enclosed by steel walls and the entire compound itself is surrounded by 14 foot metal fencing topped with extensive rounds of barbed wire. These fences run two to three layers deep with a walkway between to keep the vamps on the other side. I often walk around the buildings to see them gather, desperate to get in for fresh meat since animals in the wild have become fewer. But, it is late and with the inconsistent weather on the outside often offering rain or sleet with a thick layer of fog often hanging over this time of day I choose to pass through the spoke from my laboratory to the main building. I grab a bite from the cafeteria on the way to my quarters and check in on how the crops are growing. Grown right in the middle of the commons, the largest and central building in our complex, are hundreds of potatoes, lettuce heads, spinach, beans, squash, grains, watermelon and numerous other vegetables and fruits thrive. Beyond the field, fruit bearing trees encircle the crops in the shape of a large ring grown in their large planters. All our crops are grown from enormous skylights and mirrors. Some of the freshest air is found in the commons, even if a bit humid. One of the side buildings contains all of our animals used for s*******r, breeding, and dairy products. It is also the building with the worst air conditions, but it is necessary for survival. Without either of these we would not be here. Most of the survivors who aren’t part of the breeding program work in these two buildings, others work in maintenance and housekeeping, while a few work on the science level as I do. There is no pay. We exist now as equals. All work is to keep us alive and to give us a chance at rebuilding our losses. There isn’t anything to buy anyway. Everyone is provided with goods for their personal use and food to thrive. Most of us don’t remember much of what we had before the invasion, before we were left to die. You wouldn’t think Angels are capable of harm if you remember them from the old stories, or if you have been touched by one like I have. My sister told me before she turned, when the illness first crept in, that when I was seven I had nightmares because of our parent’s death. It all stopped after Serissa came, she’s about the only Angel I ever would trust, because she is the only one who hasn’t caused me harm. She took away the pain, erased it completely. She clearly is unaware of what is happening now or I am positive she would help. She is who we need to come back to us. She is the only one who can save us from this with ease. After polishing the apple I grabbed in the cafeteria on my shirt I take a bite. The clean crisp juice runs down my chin. It’s the simple pleasures for us now and even the bite of a good apple is about the most joy you could have on any given day. Today however, I have more to cherish. The capture of an Angel, one with a unique trait I remember hearing about, whispered about by Serissa. Few of the Angels have purple eyes quite like the ones I saw in the Angel I have locked up. What makes his eyes so unique is he was once a human. Only the Angels with purple eyes were. Kyle and Serissa wouldn’t talk about the Angel they knew with purple eyes often. I remember it was actually quite a painful topic, but I have one now. One I can practice my theory on, and it was the most excitement I have seen in decades. My living quarters aren’t terribly large. I have the most essential parts necessary, a full sized bed, a closet with a few sets of clothes, most importantly my white jackets. A desk sits in the far corner with a lamp and all my handwritten notes. I have a whiteboard beside it loaded with formulas intended to further my DNA studies. Along the wall beside the desk are shelves six feet by six feet stocked full of all the books I have used to become so well versed in the sciences. I do have a cafe table with a set of chairs in another corner of the room across from where I have a small, but fully functional bathroom tucked behind a curtain. The only essential left to be desired is a window, but we are far too populated to afford everyone that pleasure as we are stacked in our rooms like sardines. There isn’t much to get a look at out there anyway, bloodshed maybe. One night’s sleep is a hard wager to make in anticipation for what tomorrow might bring. Sleep doesn’t find me easily most nights, but with an Angel locked away in my lab it certainly doesn’t come any sooner for me tonight. I can’t stop picturing him, his deep purple eyes as they pleaded to be set free. He has no idea he can save the human race, or in the least give me some indication of if it is even possible. He’s an anomaly in the Angel race, one that I hope to be the key to bringing back my sister. Only with that in mind do I finally feel the weight of sleep find me.