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  “Come on, Detective!” Shaw scoffed. “The American people don’t want to hear about this sort of thing. They live in their small reality, unaware of the big picture.”

  Karen’s jaw clenched and her eyes began to change hues. Markov knew it was only a matter of time before she snapped. She moved her head slightly to make eye contact with Markov. Her gaze was eerie, unlike even the scariest moment on the rooftop. For the first time he wasn’t convinced his Karen was in her head at all.

  “Don’t listen to him, Markov. I’m in control. It’s me.”

  Markov wanted to believe her so badly. If only there was a way to know for sure. Her eyes held a state between the normal blue and the eerie green, refusing to choose only one. They couldn’t stand out there forever. Agent Shaw’s buddies were bound to show up and squash any opportunity for escape. Markov felt the urge to light up a cigarette but had a thought which broke him out of his passing spell.

  “Karen,” Markov said. “Remember when we arrested the Mission Street Killer last spring? What did you say to me after we booked him?”

  Agent Shaw moved his eyes between Markov and Detective Hall, appearing more and more nervous by the second. Several beads of sweat ran down his face. Karen tilted her head toward Markov once more and smiled, her eyes returning to their normal color. It was a typical Karen smirk that curled up the right side of her cheek.

  “When you asked me to write the report I told you to suck it, since I was the one who made the arrest. You knew the rules and you tried to pawn it off on me anyway, you bastard. The one who slaps the cuffs gets out of the paperwork. You always were a son-of-a-bitch Markov.”

  Detective Markov smiled. That was the Karen he knew. She was a firecracker who didn’t take shit from anybody, even if they did outrank her. Karen was in control. That meant that Shaw was wrong. He had to be. Whatever this parasite was it could be controlled and it wasn’t as dangerous as he said. If he was wrong about that, surely he was wrong about the so-called invasion. Markov couldn’t accept that Shaw and his group were the only line of defense from something that big. The government would have had to tell the people. The military would be involved, too.

  Agent Shaw tightened the grip on his gun. Markov could tell he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He loosened his thin black tie and unhooked the top button of his starched white shirt. His unwavering stare became darker, the light from the setting sun creating deep shadows on his gaunt face.

  “I can’t let you leave here,” he said. “If you refuse to help us, then I’ll have no choice. I can’t have another one out there terrorizing this country. We’ve linked Neil Meriwether to more than a dozen murders, and we expect to find more. Can you imagine what thousands of them together could do?”

  “Karen isn’t the same as him. She isn’t violent.”

  Despite what he’d seen in the pictures and the corridor, Markov knew she was only defending herself. She had enough control and wherewithal not to attack Markov, and that was good enough for him.

  “She killed two of my doctors and a number of agents already. If the parasite gains complete control of her mind there’s no telling what she could do. Mr. Meriwether started out a humble insurance salesman with some extra pounds, imagine what a trained cop could do. If one of these parasites took control of one of our special forces members we would have no chance.”

  Markov had to admit, she’d picked up a few skills from the thing inside her head. She punched through walls for Christ’s sake. No. Karen was strong-willed. She wouldn’t let it control her. She could fight it. She had to.

  Detective Hall inched closer to Agent Shaw’s gun until the barrel was pressed right between her eyes. She was calm and collected, even staring down the barrel of a gun. Markov knew she’d been in the same situation more than once, but he also knew it couldn’t have been easier subsequent times. The danger was so imminent that Markov couldn’t think of anyone on the planet who would be as calm in the same situation. Karen held her cool and stared stony-faced at Shaw.

  “Do it,” she said. “Do it and watch your world burn.”

  Shaw’s eyes widened, revealing the tired, bloodshot whites around his dark irises. Karen spun around Shaw’s weapon. He fired, hitting only the large maple tree behind her. She gripped his hand, crushing it with a power Markov knew she didn’t normally possess. Karen whipped his arm around, back toward his chest and used his finger to fire two shots.

  Markov stood frozen to the ground as he felt the spatter of Shaw’s blood hit his chest and face. Agent Shaw’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his crisp white shirt oozing with two growing circles of blood. Markov couldn’t believe it. She had stood there a few minutes before and assured him she was in control. A terrifying thought struck him. What if she was in control?

  Karen stood up straight and stretched her arms, maintaining her collected nature. After wiping her bloodied hands on the white gown she slanted her head and gave Markov a confused stare. Markov didn’t know what there was to be confused about. She’d just killed a Federal Agent in front of him.

  “It needed to be done,” she said simply.

  Markov’s mouth was agape. ‘It needed to be done,’ she’d said. If Karen was truly in control, then she’d gone off the deep end. She’d killed a Federal Agent. She would be moved up to the most-wanted list. He didn’t know whether to arrest her or thank her. Somehow he doubted he’d be able to arrest her anyway.

  “We’d better move before more of them come,” Karen stated.

  “Right,” Markov replied warily.

  He was quickly realizing the gravity of the situation. If he didn’t go with her or if he gave a sign that he wasn’t on her side, he might end up like Agent Shaw. Markov looked down at Shaw’s body. His shirt was almost entirely soaked now and he was completely still. His eyes remained open, staring off into nothing.

  At least now maybe he’ll calm down, Markov thought morbidly.

  Detective Hall took off, leading him through the thick line of trees. They were quickly running out of light and Markov had to slow down several times to keep from tripping. A part of him was grateful the sun was setting as it would make them harder to spot. Another part of him hoped to be found and be taken back to the facility, where they could do their best to get rid of the alien in Karen’s head. Neither scenario played out well in his head. In each he expected to wind up dead.

  It took five minutes for them to find the main road. Karen never had the best sense of direction and she was worse than most men when it came to asking for directions. Markov saw her sniffing the air several times while they made their way to the highway. Whatever she was, she wasn’t his partner anymore. He had to find a way to get rid of the parasite before she killed anyone else. Namely, him.

  28

  1820 Hours – Day 3 – Somewhere North of the Marin Headlands

  Detective Karen Hall hid in a bush a few meters off the main road holding Detective Markov’s head down against the dirt. The black van passed them, its headlights illuminating the street and much of the forest adjacent the road. The sound of the van accelerating muffled the chirps of countless crickets hiding in the brush. Her partner struggled under her grip, his voice muted by the soil. When the van’s taillights were almost out of sight she released Markov’s head. He took a big breath of air and grumbled.

  “Was that really necessary?” he asked.

  “I said someone’s coming and you kept running your mouth, what did you expect to happen?”

  Markov cursed and stood, brushing the dirt from his face and blazer but failing to remove it all. Karen began walking in the same direction as the van. They were headed South back toward San Francisco. By her estimation it would take until morning to reach civilization by foot at their current pace. They needed to hitch a ride. She looked down at her clothes and frowned.

  She was still wearing the white gown with the slit down the side. Any passerby would think she’d escape some kind of mental institution. They probably wouldn’t stop for M
arkov either. He didn’t have the friendliest look about him and his dirty suit made him look like an invalid.

  Markov followed her down the road. At least they were going downhill; it could have been a lot worse. Karen stopped suddenly and Markov ran into her. She felt a breeze cross her face and sniffed the pollen. It was a new sensation to be able to tell the various pollens apart.

  “Hey,” he said, “What the hell?”

  “This way,” Karen said, cutting across the road and taking off through the trees.

  She had a feeling this way was a shortcut. Karen didn’t know how she did it, but she knew it was the way to go. Her nostrils flared and she stopped once more. She smelled berries growing on the hill below her. She remembered smelling them on the way to Shaw’s facility. Markov caught up to her, breathing heavily.

  “I told you not to do that.”

  “If we go down this hill we’ll bypass a couple miles of winding road.”

  “How do you know that?” Markov said, giving her an incredulous look.

  “Trust me.”

  Karen continued down the hill, her bare feet sliding over dirt and brush. She didn’t feel a thing. It was as though she ran barefoot through the woods every day, building up immense calluses. She felt as good as she had as a child.

  “You do realize,” Markov called out from behind, “That going downhill at night is really dangerous.”

  “Don’t be a wuss,” Karen replied over her shoulder.

  Karen thought her partner was getting frail in his old age. He wasn’t even forty yet and he acted like he was ready to retire. After his last wife he seemed to have given up; on more than love. She made it to the bottom of the hill and turned around with a smile. “Beat you.”

  Karen knelt down and examined some red berries. She sniffed them and tried to remember which kind were poisonous. She gave a carefree shrug and stuffed a few in her mouth. The taste was bitter, but after a second she found it began to taste sweet and enjoyable. Markov reached the bottom and used his hand to prop him up against a tree trunk, panting heavily. A moment later he looked up at Karen and stood up straight.

  “Karen, you’re not eating those are you?”

  “What? I’m hungry.”

  “Those are poisonous!” he yelled, slapping the rest of the berries from her hand.

  “I’m fine, Markov, relax.”

  Karen shook her head and continued through the trees. She hated when he was overprotective. She’d proven time and time again that she could take care of herself just fine. Markov followed reluctantly, still breathing hard from the last leg. Soon, the forest thinned out and they reached the road again. There was a green road sign across the street that read:

  San Francisco – 8 Miles

  Mill Valley – 1 Mile

  “There,” Karen said, continuing down the side of the road toward San Francisco.

  “Karen, hold on,” Markov pleaded.

  “You need to rest again?”

  Karen was becoming frustrated. He was weighing her down. She had a deep feeling in the pit of her stomach like she had something to do and was putting it off far too long. Karen had given up trying to discern if it was her feeling or the thing in her head. Did it matter? Its desires lined up with hers perfectly. They were in sync.

  “No,” he said. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “Mill Valley. From there we can call a cab into the city.”

  “And then what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Karen, we’ve got to get that thing out of your head. I know you don’t see it, but you’ve changed.”

  Markov was being ridiculous. She felt fine. Better than fine. She was in control and the voice hadn’t spoken to her in hours. Even then she could fight it if she had to. She’d done it before with Shaw and she could do it again. Karen had fought back the voices and decided to do what was necessary on her own. That was her decision. No one else’s.

  “Markov, in the last 24 hours I’ve been hit upside the head by a lunatic, kidnapped, probed, and forced to kill. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired, and when I’m tired, I don’t respond well to threats against my life. I’m not the one who’s changed. You have. You’ve lost your edge.”

  “I have?” Markov asked, appalled. “I’ve been looking out for you since day one sister, don’t give me that crap.”

  “Well you’ve done a pretty good job, haven’t you? I didn’t see you helping during any of this. Typical, Markov. Always around at the last minute to take the credit.”

  Karen didn’t mean that. Markov had saved her life more than once. But he was pissing her off and needed to be put in his place. Her anger bubbled up inside her and she could feel the change coming. The voice in her head told her to trust it, to let it take over. It would get rid of him for her. It would protect her. Karen flinched and shook her head with squinted eyes. She let out a harsh howl of pain as her stomach contracted as though in a vice.

  “What is it?” Markov asked, putting a concerned hand on her forearm.

  She tried to fight the voices but as they grew in number and intensity they became hard to resist. However much of an asshole Markov was, he was her partner. She couldn’t kill him. Could she? A vision of a purple landscape with jagged rocks jutting up at every angle filled her racing mind. In the sky of that small world, a cascade of meteorites flew through air. They weren’t falling, she realized, they were leaving the atmosphere, propelled by some unseen force. There really was an invasion coming. The voice in her head had denied it as Shaw had made his claims. The voice could be so convincing. When she received the images she felt as one with the voice in her head. It couldn’t lie to her any more than she could lie to it. They were past the games.

  Karen was on the ground now, writhing in an internal struggle for dominance; for control of her mind. She might have screamed out, but it was hard to tell over the noise in her head. She could feel Markov’s hand bracing her shoulders, steadying her. Karen focused on him, trying to stay grounded in the present. The voice no longer spoke English, but that strange clicking she had heard before. It was happening. She couldn’t resist the change any longer.

  •

  A black Suburban came to a screeching halt after taking the curve a little too fast. In the beams of its headlights there were two figures on the ground, one appearing to have a seizure and the other trying to keep her from hurting herself. Agent Brown smiled and ran his hand through his military fade haircut. The way it felt reminded him of basic military training. Both of the people he wanted to see in one place, how lucky could one guy get?

  Agent Brown stepped out of the Suburban, his long legs reaching the ground without much of a drop. He adjusted his suit and cracked his neck. His thin black tie was immaculately centered against his white dress shirt. Even so, he fixed it again just to be sure.

  Everything was going according to plan. Now that Agent Shaw was out of the picture, he was top dog, and it was about god-damned time. For months he delayed Shaw’s operation, never letting him get close to his goal. Seeing him dead by the alternate exit hatch was more than satisfying. Now, nothing stood between him and his mission.

  Detective Markov looked up into the headlights, shielding his eyes from the brightness with a thick hand so he could see who was approaching. The disheveled detective was nothing to Agent Brown. He’d never understood Shaw’s desire to keep him alive. He was worthless to his cause in his present state.

  “Help, she’s,” Markov said with hesitation, “She’s having a seizure.”

  “Detective Markov,” Agent Brown began, “So good to see you again.”

  Markov got to his feet and approached him slowly. When he was within a few feet the light from the headlights fell on Agent Brown’s back, allowing him to see who he was talking to. A look of recognition appeared on his grizzled face. Behind the dirt that was now caked to his skin, Agent Brown saw fear. But there was something else. Was it hope?

  “Agent Brown, Shaw was right. About everything. She’
s out of control. We need to get the parasite out now!”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” Agent Brown said, pulling out his Beretta and pointing it point blank at Markov’s head.

  Markov appeared confused. He gazed down at the writhing Detective Hall and then back to Brown. A part of him wanted to make Markov figure it out on his own, but after observing him over the past few days he decided he didn’t have the patience to wait. Agent Brown saw him itch his left shoulder through his dirty brown blazer. It seemed an odd tick given the circumstances.

  “Step away from the girl.”

  Markov repositioned himself directly between Agent Brown and Detective Hall. His large frame blocked most of Brown’s view of the girl. Ten years ago, Markov might have posed a threat, but Agent Brown was just as big but without the beer belly and neck fat. Now, he was nothing more than a washed-up bodybuilder with no badge, no gun, and no way to defend himself.

  “You can stop this,” Markov pleaded. “Shaw said there’s a way to stop what’s coming.”

  “Shaw was a fool. You can’t stop it, no one can. Soon we will be the dominant race on this planet.”

  Agent Brown could feel his eyes begin the change as a green tint was added to his vision, the parasite in his brain altering his perception for optimal survival. The blackness of the moonless night became less of a hindrance to his sight. He wondered why anyone would fight this power. This gift. He’d embraced it years ago. The voice in his head was now his closest friend and both of their desires resolved themselves in tandem. No one else knew him like it did.

  “You’re,” Markov started, “One of them?”

  “Don’t act so surprised. How else do you think you escaped our Facility? I couldn’t let Shaw kill her.”

  “You’ve been sabotaging him all along,” Markov mused.

  Agent Brown disregarded Markov and addressed Detective Hall, still contorted on the ground.

  “Don’t fight it, Detective. If you work with it, it’ll respect your wishes.”

  “What do you mean?” Detective Markov asked.