The Host (64 page)

Was I too loud? Too oblivious to my surroundings? No, of course that was not it. There was nothing I could have done. This was a trap, and it was too late for us the minute we arrived.

We froze when the thin beams of light shot out of the darkness into Jared's and Melanie's faces.

My face, my eyes, the ones that might have helped us, stayed obscured, hidden in the shadow made by Ian's wide back.

My eyes were not blinded by the glare, and the moon was bright enough for me to clearly see the Seekers that outnumbered us, eight to our six. Bright enough for me to see the way they held their hands, to see the weapons that glinted in them, raised and pointed at us. Pointed at Jared and Mel, at Brandt and Aaron–our only gun still undrawn–and one centered dead on Ian's chest.

Why had I let him come with me? Why did he have to die, too? Lily's bewildered questions echoed in my head:
Why did life and love go on? What was the point?

My fragile little heart shattered into a million pieces, and I fumbled for the pill in my pocket.

“Steady, now, everybody just keep calm,” the man in the center of the group of Seekers called out. “Wait, wait, don't be
swallowing
anything! Jeez, get a grip! No, look!” The man turned the flashlight on his own face.

His face was sun browned and craggy, like a rock that had been eroded by the wind. His hair was dark, with white at the temples, and it curled in a bushy mess around his ears. And his eyes–his eyes were dark brown. Just dark brown, nothing more.

“See?” he said. “Okay, now, you don't shoot us, and we won't shoot you. See?” And he laid the gun he was carrying to the ground. “C'mon, guys,” he said, and the others slid their guns back into holsters–on their hips, their ankles, their backs… so many weapons.

“We found your cache here–clever, that; we were lucky to find it–and decided we'd hang out and make your acquaintance. It's not every day you find another rebel cell.” He laughed a delighted laugh that came from deep in his belly. “Look at your faces! What? Did you think you all were the only ones still kickin'?” He laughed again.

None of us had moved an inch.

“Think they're in shock, Nate,” another man said.

“We scared them half to death,” a woman said. “What do you expect?” They waited, shuffling from foot to foot, while we stood frozen.

Jared was the first to recover. “Who
are
you?” he whispered.

The leader laughed again. “I'm Nate–nice to meet you, though you might not feel the same way just yet. This here's Rob, Evan, Blake, Tom, Kim, and Rachel along with me.” He gestured around the group as he spoke, and the humans nodded at their names. I noticed one man, a little to the back, whom Nate did not introduce. He had bright, crinkly ginger hair that stood out–especially because he was the tallest in the group. He alone seemed to be unarmed. He was also staring intently at me, so I looked away. “There's twenty-two of us altogether, though,” Nate continued.

Nate held out his hand.

Jared took a deep breath and then a step forward. When he moved, the rest of our little group silently exhaled all at once.

“I'm Jared.” He shook Nate's hand, then started to smile. “This is Melanie, Aaron, Brandt, Ian, and Wanda. There are thirty-seven of us altogether.”

When Jared spoke my name, Ian shifted his weight, trying to obscure me completely from the other humans' view. It was only then that I realized I was still in just as much danger as the others would have been in if these
had
been Seekers. Just like in the beginning. I tried to hold perfectly still.

Nate blinked at Jared's revelation, and then his eyes widened. “Wow. That's the first time I've ever been one-upped on
that
one.”

Now Jared blinked. “You've found others?”

“There are three other cells separate from ours that we know of. Eleven with Gail, seven with Russell, and eighteen with Max. We keep in touch. Even trade now and then.” Again, the belly laugh. “Gail's little Ellen decided she wanted to keep company with my Evan here, and Carlos took up with Russell's Cindy. And, of course, everyone needs Burns now and then –” He stopped talking abruptly, glancing uneasily around him, as if he'd said something he shouldn't have. His eyes rested briefly on the tall redhead in the back, who was still staring at me.

“Might as well get that out of the way,” the small dark man at Nate's elbow said.

Nate shot a suspicious glance across our little line. “Okay. Rob's right. Let's get this out there.” He took a deep breath. “Now, you all just take it easy and hear us out. Calmly, please. This upsets people sometimes.”

“Every time,” the one named Rob muttered. His hand drifted to the holster on his thigh.

“What?” Jared asked in a flat voice.

Nate sighed and then gestured to the tall man with the ginger red hair. The man stepped forward, a wry smile on his face. He had freckles, like me, only thousands more. They were scattered so thick across his face that he looked dark skinned, though he was fair. His eyes were dark–navy blue, maybe.

“This here is Burns. Now, he's with us, so don't go crazy. He's my best friend–saved my life a hundred times. He's one of our family, and we don't take kindly to it when people try to kill him.”

One of the women slowly pulled her gun out and held it pointed at the ground.

The redhead spoke for the first time in a distinctly gentle tenor voice. “No, it's okay, Nate. See?

They've got one of their own.” He pointed straight at me, and Ian tensed. “Looks like I'm not the only one who's gone native.”

Burns grinned at me, then crossed the empty space, the no-man's-land between the two tribes, with his hand stretched out toward me.

I stepped out from around Ian, ignoring his muttered warning, abruptly comfortable and sure.

I liked the way Burns had phrased it.
Gone native.

Burns stopped in front of me, lowering his hand a bit to compensate for the considerable difference in our heights. I took his hand–it was hard and callused next to my delicate skin–and shook it.

“Burns Living Flowers,” he introduced himself.

My eyes widened at his name. Fire World–how unexpected.

“Wanderer,” I told him.

“It's… extraordinary to meet you, Wanderer. And here I thought I was one of a kind.”

“Not even close,” I said, thinking of Sunny back in the caves. Perhaps we were none of us as rare as we thought.

He raised an eyebrow at my answer, intrigued.

“Is that so?” he said. “Well, maybe there's some hope for this planet, after all.”

“It's a strange world,” I murmured, more to myself than to the other native soul.

“The strangest,” he agreed.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

STEPHENIEMEYERgraduated from Brigham Young University with a degree in English literature. She lives with her husband and three sons in Arizona. Read more about Stephenie and her other books atwww.stepheniemeyer.com .

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