Most of them showed bulges in their stomachs. The closest ones looked bloated. But as I peered into the far reaches of the concrete plain, I saw that the farther away the kids were, the more pronounced the bulges were. At the far edge, the boys and girls showed humps protruding almost a foot, filling the space between their waists and their chests. I noticed now that these kids and the others strapped to the assembly line all looked older-at least twelve years old. Where were the younger kids? Being fed at some other center, aged up like cattle?
Making the rounds through this perverted harvest were several more figures wearing seamless space suits like the high priestess, but they were shorter and more muscle-bound. Males? Parading around on autopilot, bent to a single task, they reminded me of drone insects. Their suits were black as well, though less shiny than the female’s armor.
I had to remind myself to breathe. I was confronting odds so impossible I couldn’t even imagine a version of success. Even if Alex weren’t already lost and even if I could spot her, it would be impossible to sneak into the compound, dodge the Hosts and Drones, free her, and get out.
Thump. Squelch.
The sound made me wince. My cheeks were wet; I hadn’t even realized that my eyes were watering from the sight.
I forced myself to exhale. And then draw another breath.
Thump. Squelch.
The figure, she was impregnating them.
Using the children of Earth as pods to incubate… something. Probably her offspring, which would hatch up out of the kids.
The cannery resembled nothing so much as a beehive.
And the sleek, suited figure was the queen bee.
Or a queen bee.
Remembering all those asteroids raking through the night sky a week ago, I wondered how many scenes just like this one were being played out around the planet right now.
Again I told my mouth to draw air, forced my lungs to inhale.
A scream drew my attention back to the cannery. As Afa dragged the next girl from the cage, she thrashed and fought, a shimmer of blond hair flying up over her face. She twisted free and ran, but only got two steps before colliding with Sheriff Blanton’s chest. He seized her thin wrists, torquing them painfully, guiding her back into Afa’s arms.
Together they strapped her to the assembly belt’s starting point, bending over her, their broad flexed backs blocking her from view.
Thump. Squelch.
As the next victim drifted off across the foundation, the belt lurched forward, bringing the girl into view.
It was Alex.
ENTRY 36
The bulldozer hurtled down the graded hillside toward the cannery, blade raised, motoring through boulders, snapping tree trunks, bouncing violently as it reached even ground. It skipped over the curb, took out a length of chain-link fence, dragging it along, and plowed into the corner of the factory.
Chunks of the walls collapsed around it, rubble raining down.
Though the assembly belt kept lurching along, the Hosts flew from their positions toward the crash site. Others swarmed the grounds, the previously perfect mechanics of the operation turned to chaos. It was as though I’d poked a stick into an anthill.
They dug at the sharp rubble to unearth the bulldozer cab, their hands bloodying with the effort. As they worked, the assembly belt kept on, moving the strapped-down kids along toward the Queen.
Thump. Squelch.
One of the Drones had moved over to her side to help with the straps. The show would go on.
The Hosts closed in on the bulldozer, then climbed on top of it, coyotes hungry for the kill. They pried at the rubble, unearthing the machine. At last the final chunk of concrete tumbled away to reveal the cab.
It was empty.
I wasn’t in it.
I’d taken advantage of the distraction to sneak down to the factory from a different direction, using stacks of sheet metal and rolls of fencing for cover. In a half crouch, I’d run across the brief open stretch of the parking lot and dived inside the factory floor.
With the Hosts busy at the bulldozer, I’d crawled beneath the assembly belt. It was lifted off the floor by spaced brackets, the cramped crawl space providing access to the belt’s underbelly for repairs or adjustments.
On my hands and knees, I scurried beneath it now, the path steering me all around the factory floor as if I were a rat in a maze. When my head or shoulders lifted too high, the belt sanded my skin painfully. Fortunately, I’d stashed the cowboy hat on the hillside with the backpack.
I couldn’t see where Alex was, but I knew she was somewhere above me. I could have passed her already. One turn took me toward the far wall, and a chorus of voices erupted beside me.
Turning my head, I saw countless faces peering at me through bars-kids trapped in their cages at the base of the giant stacked wall.
“Hey, kid-please help me!”
“Over here! Over here!”
A young girl was curled up in a ball, weeping.
It was horrible, and yet I had to keep moving.
I couldn’t save them all.
I couldn’t.
Tearing my eyes away from them, I risked sticking my head out and peering down the assembly line. Nothing. I looked the other way, behind me. There Alex was, twenty yards up. I’d passed her, all right. She’d been the last kid strapped to the belt before the bulldozer diversion. I could see the soles of her shoes lurching away from me.
Relentlessly, the sounds carried in from outside.
Thump. Squelch.
I reversed course, scrambling beneath the belt back toward Alex. When I peeked out to gauge my position, I saw one of the plier clips pinning her down up ahead. The Hosts had moved off the bulldozer now, resuming their duties, their legs sweeping past me in both directions. Raspy breaths filled the air all around me. Despite the pauses in the belt’s movement, I was having trouble catching up to Alex. It was hard to move through the narrow space, and the hard floor hurt my hands and knees.
Thump. Squelch.
Ignoring the pain, I hurtled forward.
I was making headway. Closer, closer-
Then I collided with the wall. I’d been so focused on rushing that I’d forgotten to look up at where I was heading.
I’d reached the point where the belt continued through the wall to the foundation outside. I watched helplessly as Alex lurched out of reach. The plier clips binding her to the belt passed through the hatch over my head.
Thump. Squelch.
The lip of the wall beneath the rough-cut hole left little room under the assembly line, squeezing the crawl space even more. Thrusting my arms through the narrow space like a diver, I launched with my legs. The belt bit into my back and shoulders, scraping them. As it jolted ahead, it shoved me backward until the edge of the wall cut into my gut. Then the belt paused.
I was stuck.
Thump. Squelch.
The next movement was going to rip me apart.
I had a moment of blind panic.
I closed my eyes. Heard Patrick’s voice.
You can. You always could.
I thought of Alex up there, three kids from the end of the line. And I thought about what the Queen was about to do to her.
I blew my breath out all the way, shrinking my chest, and pulled my stomach taut.
The belt juddered backward again, tugging me the wrong way. With everything I had, I shoved against it. The wall ground across my ribs and stomach, the belt moving in the opposite direction above, threatening to skin me. For a second I thought my hips would catch and the bones simply snap.
But then I shot through.
I landed under the belt outside, pain screaming through my body.
Thump. Squelch.
Alex was two kids away from the Queen.
Pulling the folding knife from my pocket, I jerked it open and bit down on the blade, clenching it between my teeth like a pirate. Then I shot toward Alex and the end of the line. The Queen’s slender sheathed legs came into view alongside the thick calves of her Drone.