Chapter 9 Harb’k

We lay in a bowling lane each, staring at the geometrically painted ceiling. Zoey was enjoying some packaged food, and I was eating a food bar.

We’d thoroughly butchered the game of bowl-ling, and I’d enjoyed every moment of it. She hadn’t even called me immature or berated me for setting the pins up in the last lane in the shape of a human cock. I’d picked up the practice from foraging and hunting with the younger males at camp and knew that some of the females thought it silly and immature.

It wasn’t the right shape for a Xarc’n cock, but it was much easier to draw and more recognizable. She’d laughed at it until she was holding onto her stomach, which was the intended purpose.

That was one thing about coming to Earth that had changed my life forever. I’d learned it was okay to have fun.

When the Xarc’n military had created us hunters to eliminate their previous genetically modified accidents, the scourge, personality traits such as humor and playfulness hadn’t been what they’d been going for. They wanted stoic warriors with a singular purpose. We weren’t created to think but to follow orders. We were created to fight, not to have fun.

But they didn’t intentionally remove the undesirable traits either. They simply ignored them as they didn’t affect our ability to fight. That left hunters like me, who always felt out of place. There were also hunters who were more technologically inclined than others, and sometimes, they understood my humor a little more.

But those hunters had a valued and esteemed spot in our society now that Xarc, and the Xarc’n military, was gone. They helped create new weapons and improvements to our shuttles.

Me, however? The way my brain was different wasn’t very useful for fighting the scourge.

Ever since coming to Earth, we’d made many changes in the way we fought. For one, we stayed in hunter groups permanently now instead of hunting alone for most of the year and only teaming up for the summer swarms.

I liked to think that encouraged the other hunters develop a sense of humor. Of course, being around humans had helped. Like us, some were very serious and didn’t have a sense of humor, but many did.

It was why I’d enjoyed my monthly visits to Franklin back before the current offshoot had moved to the plains to join us. And that had me thinking about the upcoming first annual Trader’s Market. I wanted to ask Zoey to go with me on a proper date—which I knew was a human courting ritual.

Back when I used to visit the Franklin stronghold monthly, I’d done everything I could to get close to the females there. I’d gone on several “dates”, and while the females had been physically appealing, they were not my mates. I’d kissed them, and it had been merely okay. I didn’t crave another like I did with Zoey.

I also hadn’t gotten tripped up with how to ask them for a date like I was right now. I just asked them to share a meal with me. But Zoey and I are already sharing meals.

I pushed up to my elbows so I could see her reaction to my words. “The humans working with my hunter group are all getting ready for our first annual Trader’s Market,” I said, my voice sounding strange as it broke through our comfortable silence.

“A market! That sounds exciting.” Interest sparked in her eyes.

“It’s a large gathering where survivor groups can bring their extra harvest, excess tech components, and other items to trade.”

“Connor would have been all over that.” Then her face fell, and I knew it was because she missed her friend. She hadn’t given herself time to grieve yet. “But I guess we wouldn’t have known about it. How would that work? Any large gathering of humans would be bug bait.”

“Ideally, it should be held in early winter, when the scourge is least active, and their numbers are low after the summer swarms. But late winter to early spring isn’t too bad, either. There will be a lot of hunters there to protect the event. And we plan to set our lures in strategic spots at a distance from the gathering and send teams of hunters to dispatch the scourge that show up.”

“Lures?” she asked. “So you Xarc’n warriors can draw the bugs to your location. I guess the rumors are true.”

I knew I was scowling. Usually, those rumors were accompanied by the belief that we had drawn the scourge to Earth with the intent to take it over. “We did not lure the scourge here.” The words came out angrier than I’d meant them to.

Zoey’s lips opened in a shocked little O. I was still lying down with my knees bent, and she leaned forward and pressed a hand to my knee.

“That’s not the rumor I meant. I meant the one that says you have a device that makes hunting the bugs easier by drawing them into traps.” She gave my knee a little squeeze. “Early on, our group found a device we thought did exactly that: lure the bugs in. We wanted to use it to lead the bugs away from places we needed to forage. But we never did get it working.”

She started withdrawing her hand, but I placed my palm over it, holding it on my knee. She didn’t seem to mind as she continued speaking.

“There were talks about other nomad groups who had working ones, but we couldn’t confirm if the rumors were true one way or another. Everything was hush-hush. Owning something like that would make you a target.” She stared into the distance as if remembering her group.

The goal had been to ask her to go to the market with me and not to make her sad about losing those she cared about.

I sat up. “The survivor groups working with us share information all the time. There are friendly competitions, but they work together with one singular goal: destroy the scourge and reclaim Earth.”

“As it should be,” she said.

“We used to facilitate trade between the survivor groups by distributing excess goods through our delivery system. It was getting too much for our delivery hunters to handle, so they planned a large gathering.” Keeping her hand in mine, I said, “Come to the Trader’s Market with me.” Then, because I had to convince her, I added, “There will be hot chocolate and pie.”

The ghost of a smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Well, if there’s hot chocolate and pie, then who am I to say no? Just one problem.” She pulled her hand back. “I’m joining Sanctuary. And we both know their stance on working with Xarc’n warriors. I don’t think I’d be welcomed at your Trader’s Market representing the settlement, and I doubt sneaking out to attend the Trader’s Market in secret would be viewed positively. I can’t burn my bridges. I don’t have many left.”

I deflated. I’d hoped that spending time with me would make her reconsider joining the human settlement.

“I can still shelter with you at noon whenever I’m out foraging alone,” she said.

I gave her a curt nod, knowing that would never be, because foragers for the settlement never went out alone. Now might be our only time together; I had to make it last.

Zoey stood, pulling me up with her. “Let’s go check out the hobby shop upstairs.”

“What is a hobby shop?” This was a new kind of store for me. Humans had all sorts of stores selling different items, but I did not know how one sold a hobby.

Instead of answering me directly, Zoey asked, “Where did you get the model planes on your shuttle?”

“I traded for the kits with human warriors from New Franklin.”

Zoey paused midstep in front of the door to the stairs that led down to the bowling alley. “I’ve heard of New Franklin. Another rumor. Nomads were purveyors of information, among other things, and we came across many.” Her face clouded. “We’d wanted to go check it out, see if it’s really true that the nest there is gone. But Corey showed up.”

“It’s true. The nest at the center of Franklin is gone. It was a joint effort between humans and hunters. I was there to help clear it out.”

I wanted to tell her that the Trader’s Market was going to be held there but didn’t. She was going to join Sanctuary. I didn’t think she’d purposefully sabotage it, but I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t accidentally mention it to someone who would.

“That’s—” She made a strangled noise.

“What is wrong?” I reached for her, patting down her upper body to see if she’d somehow hidden an injury from my sensitive nose.

“Nothing,” She looked away and closed her eyes. When she opened them, there were unshed tears. “It’s just… they would’ve been so happy to know it’s true.”

She was talking about her lost friends.

“I’m sorry.” She dashed away the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t mean to break down on you. I’ll get it together.”

“There is no need. It is natural to grieve.” I looked up at the ceiling but saw the faces of the hunters I’d lost instead.

“But I can’t. Not yet. Grief is a distraction; it kills. It’s not safe yet.”

I pulled her into my arms, holding her close to my chest, which was rumbling softly now in a bid to calm her. “It is. You are safe. I will keep you safe.”

At first, she was stiff and immobile in my arms, but after a few long moments, a shudder broke the stillness, and she inhaled sharply. Her fingers tightened on my biceps, and I felt the warmth and wetness of tears on my chest.