Chapter 9 Dark Tidings

  “What. Is. this?” I hiss out. My fists start banging against the barrier, scaring the seagull away. The glowing sign remains. Like a popup advertisement from the old internet. President Belen would fly into a rage if he saw it. He sees the destruction of pop-up ads as one of the few benefits the Hollowing provided humanity. He taught a whole substitute history class on it.

  “It says—”

  “I know what it says, Juan! What does it mean?”

  Juan shrugs at me, “I guess we come back tomorrow? I’m kidding amigo. We try to find a way in to your hermanito. But maybe we can write back or something?”

  I tap against the barrier in Morse Code. The holo seagull pops back out and taps the message. It writes out, “Questions?”

  “Yes! Where is my little brother you sick freak?”

  Another tap, the message changes to, “What is your little brother’s name?”

  “His name is Oakley Wong. You kidnapped him earlier you bird brain!”

  The bird turns its head sideways to study me or listen to something. After a minute the bird taps the message again, “Oakley Wong says he wants to help me build a game.”

  I grit my teeth, “What oily promise did you trick him with? He’s a minor! Only nine years old.”

  “No trick. Come back tomorrow, Matt.” The seagull taps the message again and it returns to its original posting.

  Juan scratches his chin, “I don’t think you ever told it your name, amigo.”

  A chill runs down my neck at Juan’s observation. “Juan, we can’t leave him with some crazy programmer controlling Holos brimming with information gathering techniques!”

  “Because he’s in danger?”

  “More like he’ll become the danger. Who’d ever accept him into their tribe if he works with Holos?”

  “I’ll help however I can, amigo. But it’s getting late. We need to hurry.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Juan boosts me to scrabble against the barrier, I jump off various wrecked cars, pole vault using decrepit beach umbrellas, and we throw lots of objects at the barrier. Everything from sand to rebar, looking for weaknesses as we prod the hotel’s defenses from every angle we can.

  Hours pass. Dusk falls. The barrier mocks me.

  Juan’s hand grabs my shoulder, “Amigo, we have to leave. Now.”

  “But he’s so close, Juan!”

  “Mateo, we’re leaving. A Malo walks the night. It’s territory is close and I don’t know how it’ll act with this thing around.”

  My spirit sinks. Malos. Holos determined to destroy humans. Like they are programmed for one thing: violence. I take a last look at the barrier. We need to find our own shelter. Or else I won’t be back tomorrow.

  “Juan, how does this thing normally behave?”

  “It’s a predator. A diablo shaped like a lion. Normally it prowls the streets of the main town at night. It’ll kill anyone it finds. Man, woman, or child. Keeping their bones. The Malo sleeps during the day unless you approach the old garage it’s claimed as a nest. I want to think we’d be safe in the beach house outside town proper, but things have changed.”

  I sigh, “Things have changed. Are there any safe places further out than the hotel?”

  “The Dwellers have a few home basements nearby, but they normally shut out everyone at night. It’s standard for them. Especially after the idiotas have taken supplies from their kids this season. The Conclave is deeper into town. They have the hospital, parking garage, and whatever else they can fix up nearby. They’ve held onto it since no one survives the Malo on their border long enough to sneak in. Plus, they’re nice enough to provide health care in exchange for supplies.”

  “Tree house?”

  “Sí. Tree house.”

  We pack up my stuff from the bungalow. I have an extra sleeping bag for Juan. Then we head away from the hotel. Deeper into the overgrown woods behind the protected property. We hope the Malo will stay near the hotel if it decides to investigate. Nothing to see in the trees, kitty cat.

  We tie ourselves into a tree which lets us see each other, the hotel, and hopefully any approaching Malo. Maybe we could split up and book it before it got us both. Really bright thoughts tonight, Matt.

  I struggle sleeping in the tree. It’s itchy, humid and hot. Bugs try to join in. They weren’t invited! I do my best to brush them away, but their songs continue chirping and breaking the normal silence of gentle waves. I’m not used to the great outdoors after a month of house arrest.

  I hear Juan snore contentedly in the tree’s other branches. I wish I could fall asleep that well.

  I look back at the hotel beach and catch a glint of green eyes. A predator’s gaze flashes in the darkness. My heart pumps violently. I can’t believe it, but I feel relief when a flock of Holos chases the Malo into the night. Except, I notice they are carrying a struggling fox. Not a lion.

  I hear scratches in the bark beneath me. And hear the gentle pad of feet landing in the grass below. The hairs on my neck stand on end.

  Looking down, I see a proud lion’s mane bouncing away into the forest. Fleeing the hotel? The head turns around. Yellow eyes stare up at me. A long tongue licks lion fangs in anticipation. Then the Malo leaves. Content with sowing fear in the humans who thought they had outsmarted the king of the food chain.

  I hadn’t sensed the thing until it wanted me to hear it. I don’t sleep. Malos on my mind.