bright. He had, enjoying how fascinated she’d been with his descriptions and her enthusiasm at his accomplishments.
In bed, Zac turned over to inspect the room. The space was dim, but he could see the two tubs that held his and Callie’s small but growing collection of toys, the bureau that held their clothes, the shelves of books. He slid out of bed and crept to the door. He peeked through the crack. His big sister never closed the door, concerned he or Callie might need her during the night.
He saw dim light spilling from the living room, highlighting the wall across from the bedroom, and the darkened doorway to the bath. A low hum of conversation, the words too quiet to be distinguished, reached his ears. He heard Tina laugh.
The sound tugged at something in his chest. She was nice. His daddy had said she was, but when Zac asked if she could come visit, he’d answered in his don’t-bother-me voice, “She’s better off where she is. We’re all better off without her here.”
When Daddy wasn’t around to get mad, Zac asked his mother why he couldn’t meet his big sister. “Daddy feels bad when he sees Tina. She reminds him of someone he loved a long time ago.”
Zac didn’t understand, but he knew when he shouldn’t keep asking questions. He’d almost forgotten he had an older sibling before the explosions ruined everything.
Tina was nice. She’d been excited to meet him and Callie, and she never got cross no matter how he acted. She’d be perfect, except she was fond of the Kalquorians.
Zac had forgotten himself while having fun with Osopa and Tukui. He’d been allowed to play a victim for the emergency rescue scenario, which had been almost as cool as watching the Nobeks fight. Tukui had told him he did a great job pretending to be hurt, and maybe he could do it again for future training. Zac had warmed to that praise. He’d especially enjoyed Tukui and Osopa complimenting his efforts in front of Tina.
Now he felt guilty. Earth had warred against the Kalquorians. He wasn’t supposed to be friends with them. It was wrong to want to.
They were keeping him from his parents. Zac could accept the city was blown up, but his parents would have gotten out in time and headed home. They couldn’t be gone. They weren’t soldiers who’d fought the war. There was no reason for them to be dead.
Someone had to find them. If the air and water were being poisoned as Tukui said, they had to be rescued. There were bad people outside the site, people making war against other Earthers as well as the Kalquorians at the site.
Daddy doesn’t have a blaster to protect Mommy. If he did, he doesn’t know how to fire it. Zac knew how, though. Osopa had taught him, and Zac could teach his father. He could tie a tourniquet too, thanks to Tukui. If his parents were hurt (not dead, not dead), he could help them with that.
He had to find them.
Zac crept from the door to his closet. His jacket hung in there. Tina had been delighted he’d put it away himself, praised him for keeping his things neat. “Best brother anyone ever had,” she’d proclaimed with a hug. She hugged a lot, when he let her. He liked her hugs.
Why did she have to be friends with the enemy keeping him and Callie from the rest of their family?
He searched his jacket’s secret inner pocket and found the tracker he’d snatched, safe and sound. He took it to bed, careful not to disturb Callie, and pulled the covers up over his head. Just to be extra safe, he pulled the pillow over his head too.
He whispered to the tracker, holding it close to his lips. “Tracker, activate.”
It did so with a beep. Zac winced and waited, listening.
When no one came to see what all the noise was about, he murmured, “Search for address: 263 Acorn Drive, Alexandria, Virginia.”
The tracker beeped again. Zac held his breath.
His mother had drilled him on his home address, his parents’ work addresses, and all the phone numbers they could be reach at should an emergency occur. But when the emergency had actually happened, they’d never answered. Something in his stomach clenched.
Maybe they are dead.
No. Impossible.
Strange green characters bloomed in the darkness, odd writing that looked more like little drawings than words. Kalquorian writing. Those were replaced by a glowing grid pattern that zoomed into another set of grids,