Subdued

CHAPTER 1:1

They Found Us

Sarah's POV

A dream is upon me while I am deep in a restless slumber. In it, I run through the dark depths of a thick forest, the eerie sounds of death chasing after me no matter which way I turn.

Loud screams and the blare of the alarm mix together as I run, panting, my feet trying to take me as far as it can. Until they catch on a twine, and I fall to the mushy wet ground, face first.

And when I roll to my side, trying to get to my feet, a monster—the one that had been chasing after me—is glaring down at me with bloody fangs.

“You are mine!” It growls loudly before its hand grab me by the waist, just as my scream of terror rent the air.

And I wake with a start, panting, also soaked with sweat from face to neck, maybe even more in other places. I put my hand to my chest, trying to calm my beating heart, glancing around at the other women who are fast asleep.

Just then, a terrifying sound rents the air, and my heart rate—which had been going down initially—simply spikes.

For a moment, I sit upright, completely still, thinking it is a drill. That is what the alarm bell meant, a drill, always an early morning drill with the colony.

I sigh under my breath and get out of bed, reaching for my boots while I am telling my heart beat to slow down.

But, I know I am wrong when the sound of the bell carries on, a trumpet, the drums and a saxophone joining it.

My eyes widen in horror the moment I realize what that blare is. It is the attack alarm—the enemies are upon us.

Earth fell before I was born.

That was the first thing every child in the colony learnt, not as a bedtime story, but a warning disguised as human history.

The aliens came to earth and they did not want our land or our resources.

They wanted us.

Women.

Specifically, they wanted our minds: the architecture of the human brain which was remarkable enough to make them cross numerous galaxies in order to take what they could not replicate.

Hybrids.

That was what they called the children born of their obsession, bearing the mixed blood of human intelligence and the absurdity of alien resilience.

It was why we hid, underground, in the dark, in silence, as Colonies.

And for a while, hiding was enough.

Until today...

I hear hurried footsteps as I try to push each foot quickly into the boot. The women in the room rise fast, murmurs flying fast as we all get dressed. Someone lights a torch just as my father's voice, not far off, reaches us in the room.

“This is not a drill!” He yells. “We are under attack! All hands on deck!”

My father hardly raised his voice in the camp, at least in the twenty years of him actively leading this colony. The kind of respect he commanded allowed him the privilege of silence whenever he walked into any room to speak. And the people were expected to listen and follow.

“Everyone move!” The sound of his shouting drew nearer and nearer as I whipped my hair into a ponytail. “All the women and children go to the lower quarters now! We are being attacked!”

Fear was moving through my body at an alarming speed. My heart was racing inside of my chest, thudding against my rib cage while my body moved forward before my brain could catch up.

When I ran into the corridor, it was packed full with women and children who were pressed against the walls. And many more poured out of the room.

Someone's baby was crying, a lady with forget me not blue eyes was wailing as her sister dragged her along. All of this noise mixed with the blaring alarm.

At the far end, some of the men were distributing weapons to boys who were old enough to handle it. The older men were already in positions, some moving towards the opposite direction.

They were ready to fight.

When I caught sight of my father, he was turning, heading down the hall while still shouting warnings. My heart was roaring in my ears as I began to run towards him, pushing through the loud throng of women and children who were all heading for bunker.

A hand clamped over my wrists all of a sudden, pulling me to the side. When I looked up, it was my brother, Damon. A quick scan of him with my eyes and I saw that he was dressed, and also armed with a blade at his hip—the one he had made on my father's instructions when he had been freshly seventeen. And he had kept it sharp over the years.

“Sarah, I've been looking for you,” he breathed. “What are you doing going this way? Go down to the bunker!”

I shook my head, yanking my wrist from his grip to sign: Father. He shook his head and signed back with a hiss: Go to the lower quarters, Sarah, and stay there. Listen to his instructions.

My brows rose.

I signed back: What is happening? Who are the attackers? Other colonies or is it the invaders? I swallowed as I waited for him to drop the news—bad or worse.

“It is the invaders,” he said, “they found the colony.” A gasp left my lips because I knew exactly what that meant—we might not survive this. “I think our location was leaked by someone.”

Cold chills ran down my spine. If we had been sold out, that means our chances of survival were right down to about one percent. Just one miserly percent.

My entire world tilted around its axis as every single thing in me went still.

“Damon—” I stopped.

And it was not because his name came out wrongly from my lips in the way that words always did when I happened to need them the most. But it was because I could not even form any more words.

“I know, Sarah, I know,” he said before squeezing my wrist gently. “Now go. I will come find you when it's over.”

“No,” I shook immediately my head, the tears already building in them.

This may be the last time.

I just… I couldn't…

“I'll be fine, Sarah. Please go down to the bunker with the rest of the women and children,” he begged. “Father needs every man in the colony on deck.”

I swallowed softly.

“Please, Sarah.”

His voice sounds broken.

I raised my hands and sighed: Please be safe. Don't die. And he smiled.

“I promise. Now go.”

I nodded.

Then, I turned and began to follow the last trickle of women going down there just because I needed to let him believe that I was going to listen to him.

I wasn't.

When I stopped and turned back again, towards his direction, he was gone. And I bolted instantly, back to where I came from, going right after him.

To the battle field.

The corridor led to the lower entrance where sounds of fighting came from. I followed after it, stealthily. When I got to the end, I could see the large hall after it, and men filled the space.

All hands were on deck as they each held up the iron doors which was the only entrance into this place. My father was right there, his blade in hand as he was busy with yelling instructions.

I had never seen my father afraid before in my entire life. But tonight, I could tell he was by the look in his eyes and the tight set of his jaw and mouth as he ordered the fighters into proper places.

My brother was there too. He and the others were manning the doors.

Outside I could hear the sharp sound of blades dwindling. Dust rained from the ceiling each time the heavy boom I felt shook the floor of the colony. And they advanced towards the door, all of the invaders—I heard their approach.

“The door must not fall,” my father shouted at the fighters. “But if it falls, we must do everything we can to safe guard the women and the children.”

The fighters replies him with war sounds, almost like ululation.

But I knew better.

That iron door was built to hold for a century, and even more. Maybe we had a chance of survival, just maybe.

But suddenly, a heavy sound against the iron commanded silence. If a pin had dropped, one might have heard it.

Then, the sound came again, heavier this time, against the iron. And a silent gasp left my lips at the dent it made. I knew for a fact that the door would go down, even before it eventually did.

It gave way in seconds like it was absolutely nothing, thick dust rising into the air, mixing with it's collapse.

And when the dust settled, my mouth fell agape the moment I saw them.