Free Survival Colony 9 by Joshua David Bellin

pick it up, weighed it in his hand. Then he looked at me, an almost impish gleam in his eyes.
    “It’s been a while since I’ve had a catch,” he said. “You game?”
    He tossed me the ball, and my left hand shot out without hesitation to snatch it from midair. When I threw it back he slid smoothly to his right to pick it off, his bad hip bracing easily for the return throw. We tossed back and forth for the few minutes the dying day left us, snagging flies, backhands, short-hops. My arms and eyes seemed to remember what to do, and thoughts of the creatures pursuing us receded like the last shadows on the dusty ground.
    The next day I hunted for the ball, but it was gone.
    I leaned back, kicked my legs in the pool, let the memory seep into me. I wasn’t sure what the point of the exercise was, but for once I felt glad I’d done what Tyris asked.
    The sound of footsteps behind me was so soft I almost mistook it for the beating of my own heart.
    I turned my head to see a dark figure come gliding across the sleeping area toward me. It moved swiftly but cautiously, following the trail I’d taken, avoiding bodies and the rubble of buildings. My memory of that long-ago catch shredded as I jumped up to confront it, realizing I had nothing to confront it with. If it was the prowler from the night before, I had no idea what to say. If it was Skaldi, the best thing for me to do was shout, sound an alarm, hope someone woke up before it took too many of us. If it was Skaldi I was dead anyway, so attracting its attention didn’t make any difference. But my throat caught as if it was stuffed with dust, and no sound emerged as the shape closed in on me.
    Then I saw the long black hair streaming behind it, and I let out a grateful breath. It was Korah.
    She came to my side, peered into my face. Every time I looked at her I marveled at how she alone had avoided being wilted by sun and dust. Her complexion was neither too burned nor too pale, her hair fell past her shoulders free of snarls. Even in the moon-dappled dark, her eyes glowed so blue they seemed transparent, like you could see through them if you stared long enough. Which, for obvious reasons, I wasn’t about to do.
    “Can’t sleep?” she said.
    I mumbled something noncommittal.
    “Neither can I,” she said. “I stayed up half the night working on the truck with my mom, but it’s dead. Not a chance of bringing it back. Laman’s pretty set on paring down supplies, huh?”
    “You could say that.”
    She sighed. “Maybe it’s best if we move on. Wali says this place freaks him out. I can’t decide whether I agree with him or not. It seems safe to me. Or as safe as any place we’re likely to find.”
    “Even with someone poking around the bomb shelter?”
    “Still on that, huh?” She smiled. “People get restless sometimes, Querry. Especially at night. Like they just have to get up and move around. Like”—she spread her arms and made a face—“me.”
    She sat by the poolside, and I joined her. Under the usual smells of grime and sweat, her body gave off a husky aroma that twisted my stomach back into the knot that had just started to loosen.
    “So what do you think of this place?” she said.
    “I’m hardly the guy to ask,” I said. “No basis for comparison.”
    She barely nodded, as if she wasn’t really listening. “I keep thinking this is the kind of place the Skaldi first came,” she said. “Cities, towns. My mom told me. I guess they figured it’d be easier to blend in where there were more people. Plus it gave them a more plentiful food supply.” She shook her head as if to wipe the memory away. “I don’t want to think about those things. But I can’t help it.”
    I watched her, tried to think of something to say. What are you supposed to say when someone else’s girlfriend shows up in the middle of the night to talk about monsters?
    “I keep wondering if they’re us,” she went on in a strange, tight voice. “When they take us, I