The Pack (7 page)

“Not half bad, Dad. I don't look half bad. I was worried I would be a hag. Not bad at all,” she laughed. Her dad lifted her up into a bear hug and laughed with her. Then she heard it. In the middle of his laugh was a slightly wounded whimper. Something was wrong. She felt it; she knew it.

Her dad pushed her slightly away from him, and he looked down at her like he did before she could see, “Look, Shamira, we can't stay long. We have to go home as soon as you are able. I have to go to the Security Force Headquarters for a few days. I hate doing this to you, but it can't be helped. We have to fly back in a private Security
Force cruiser. Earth has locked off outgoing airspace travel unless it's for official business. Shamira, please hurry and get well. I have to go. I'm proud of you. I love you, pumpkin.” Then he got up and abruptly left.

She wanted to throw the mirror at him. He was holding something back, she knew it. Since her father had left, Shamira looked over at the doctor and took her anger out on him. “What are you looking at? Get over here and help me get better. I'm ready to go home,” Shamira spat out. Tossing the mirror at the foot of the bed, she growled in frustration, and squeezed her bent knees.

“Look, I know you are a lot more than you seem. I've read your medical records. You will heal in half the time of any other patient in this hospital.” He flipped opened her file and said, “Because I'm a longtime friend of your dad's, I'm going to give you some advice. Keep your secret to yourself. Don't let any other doctor here or on Mars examine you if you don't trust them. I have sealed your medical files. There will be another doctor attending you tomorrow, your last day required here. Make sure you keep your rage under control. We wouldn't want him to see what you're really capable of, Shamira, now would we? Now practice, and good luck to you,” Dr. Hawkins said then he left.

Throwing off the cloak of self-pity, which she'd never been too good at wearing; Shamira climbed out of bed and practiced controlling this new gift. She had been given the gift of sight beyond what she could have ever imagined.

A few days later, her dad barged through the door during one of her personal training sessions. She didn't look at him but kept gazing out the window through the wall of the building across from them. She was intently watching some kids play a virtual videogame that she knew her brother would love. Shamira was good at many things, and holding grudges was one of them. She was still ticked off at her father and wasn't about to speak first, so the videogames provided her a welcome diversion. He had left her there for days without one call.
No word at all,
she seethed.
Oh yeah, I'm definitely ticked.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he began humbly, “I'm so sorry I had to leave you, but we need to talk now,” he said. Her huge dad tried to sit in the small gray metal chair near her bed, but he barely fit. She walked over to where he sat, and he motioned for her to sit on the bed.

I will not say a word.
She knew he was about to spill the beans, but she didn't know if she was ready to hear what he had to say. She felt the heat of his body rise. She looked deeper and saw his heart was pounding faster.
Oh, yeah, this is going to be bad,
she contemplated. She sat down with a feeling of dread when a tortured look passed across her father's face.

“There has been a tragedy at home, Shamira. Your mother and brother were out riding their motor pads when they were ambushed. During the fight with your mother, as some sort of distraction I believe, they stole your… your… oh, God, pumpkin, they stole your brother,” her father said in a broken voice, barely able to keep it
together. He was trembling, and tears were pooling in the corners of his eyes. She felt it then—a building sadness, anger, and fury that felt as if it might overtake her right in that moment.
Down, down, down! Don't lose control here!
She would save it, save it for them all. Tears fell heavily and unchecked from her angry eyes. Her lips thinned, and her fists balled up so tightly that her hands started to bleed. The sanitary whiteness of her room was tainted with small specks of blood dripping from her fingers biting into her hand. Droplets fell onto the white blanket.

“Shamira! Shamira! You're bleeding. Stop it. Stop it!” her father yelled, and jumped out of his chair to shake her. She came out of it, but not without the sting of frustration. They had to leave—NOW! Being here wouldn't help her find David.
Oh, and I'll find him and kill anyone who hurt him,
she thought menacingly. She turned quietly and took a deep breath. She grabbed her clothes from the bag near her bed and went to the bathroom. She had to get dressed, and fast. She got out of the shower and quickly put on her clothes.

She walked out of the bathroom and looked at her dad. “Let's go save him.” Walking past him to the door, she was determined to leave immediately.

“You're reading my mind, little girl… reading my mind.” He walked past her to lead the way.

She didn't worry about looking at the boring white walls that surrounded them while they walked down the hallway. All she could think about was getting back home to Mars to save her brother and kill the monsters who would dare to steal him away.

“Shamira, this way. We don't have to drive to the Space Pad. There is a direct path to it down this hallway.” He pointed ahead. The hallway they went down was white like all the others but had a sliding door just midway down.

Her dad had his eye scanned, and a voice welcomed him with, “Nelson Nobel, please enter.”

Shamira watched the door open, and they went into an elevator.

“Level Minus Two,” her dad said.

Shamira looked into the mirrored walls of the elevator. She peeked behind her and noticed that her bottom protruded much more than her dad's. “Hey, Dad, why is my butt so big?” she asked with a frown.

“Don't blame me! You're shaped like your mom,” he laughed.

“That's not funny,” she said. Then she folded her hands behind her back.
This is useless.
She hadn't seen her rounded behind before and didn't mind then.
I just have to accept me for what I am.
She dropped her hands to her side and looked straight ahead at the back of her dad's head.

“Our stuff is already loaded on the ship. You'll be helping me fly. I want you to use your experience from all the simulation exercises we did on Mars. I know you did it without sight and thought it was a joke,” her dad said, regret in his voice.

“Stop beating yourself up about it. I'm fine, and seeing has its benefits, but there are some things I could have gone without seeing,” she said, peeking back at her protruding behind and smiling.

“Here we are. Let's go straight to the cruiser. Not many of the staff is around. They're all preparing for the lockdown on Earth,” her dad said when the elevator door opened. They walked through a
large garage that held the private space jets for Security Force members. The space jets were sleek with retractable wings and a silver sheen of paint accented with black and gold trim.

“These are beautiful,” Shamira said in awe. She walked over to the one that lit up for her dad when he approached and touched it. She closed her eyes, using the second sight she'd depended on for years, and walked from the middle of the space jet to the end. Joy spilled from her belly, and she smiled with her eyes still closed.

“I'm glad you like it. Now get in so I can go over the controls with you.” He was smiling at her when she opened her eyes.

“Sweet,” she said and ran to the door. The door slid open smoothly, and she climbed in and to the back of the jet. The leather seats were comfortable and plush. Shamira got comfy in hers, and her dad climbed in and closed the door. She stretched out her legs and placed her feet on the pedals.

“Sit back in your seat. Your console is coming from the ceiling,” he said and worked the controls. She watched the flat gray ceiling adjust, and the secondary console came from above. A detailed screen was attached that showed the back of her dad's head, the view in front of her, and the mappings of their route to Mars.

“Dad, this is amazing. I'm so ready! Can I drive first?” she asked. For the first time she could ever remember, she got butterflies in her stomach. She felt guilty for it, because she knew she should feel no joy knowing that David was probably somewhere hurting.
Oh, I'll definitely kill whoever took him and the others.
The smile on her
face turned to a frown then she pushed her moment of happiness away. She was ready, raging, and angry to get home and do what her hunger wanted her to do—hurt, kill, and avenge.

“I'll lead, and you mimic my moves. Everything will come back from the simulations we did at home. And Shamira, whatever you do, don't close your eyes. You need to really see what we're doing. There are space bandits roaming free now that the Earth Security Force has locked down space travel to Mars. We have to be quick, fast, and focused. Above all, we must reach Mars safely. I have some snakes to track down and kill.” He spoke with the most hate and venom she had ever heard from his usually jovial lips.

They took off, and Shamira tried hard to stay focused and not get swept away with her awe at seeing the ceiling of the building open up to a clear sky. The space jet seemed to go straight up and take off slanting skyward.

“I'm not going to waste time here. We're going into low hyperspeed to get into space as quickly as possible. If all goes well, we will be on Mars in about six hours. Brace yourself.”

Shamira couldn't help but peek at the blue sky. The sun glared brightly, and she gave in to her awe at her new sight. Nevertheless, the muted windows softened the glow as their craft got closer and closer to the clouds. In a blink, they pushed through Earth's atmosphere leaving a tickling in the pit of her stomach. She skimmed the screen bio of their space jet and the control descriptions. She was impressed to realize that their space jet had major firepower. It
also had the latest laser shooting technology that not only fired, but also found the power source of another ship and defused it, causing instant destruction to any opposition. The lasers were smart beams that hunted and fired on the selected enemy with the precision of a magnet.

“Shamira, study time is over. You need to mimic the controls with me. Split your screens so that you have them on each side, and then you can see me clearly and through the window ahead.” She easily followed her father's lead. He smiled at her progress then said, “Now, we're in space and leaving the protected area. I'll need you to take over controls if anything happens to me or when I have to concentrate on firing.”

She looked out to the black void of space lit up by sparkling stars. Refocusing on the controls, she grabbed the small forked wheel in front of her. Every move her dad made with the controls and the wheel, she followed, and they started to move completely in synch.

“Perfect, perfect. Now that you got it, I'm going in hyperspeed Level Two, heading straight for home,” her dad said and focused on the sky in front of them.

They flew without incident for several hours, and Shamira loved her newfound joy in flying. She remembered hating the simulation sessions she had with her dad, using the computer that projected a visualized drawing of light in the shape of the vehicle in her mind. The simulation also pushed heated points on her body to simulate her touching or maneuvering certain controls. She used to
think it was a waste of her time, but now she realized that she had simulated flying so much that it was a second nature to her. It was like she had done it for years before and was just getting reacquainted with it, as if she had actually flown before.

They heard a boom of laser fire pass by, “Shamira, heads up! We're being attacked. Damn! These are some nasty bastards, so shoot to kill,” he yelled furiously.

“Who are they? What do they want?” she asked, quickly putting in the sequence to aim the laser missiles.

“Damn bandits. They're probably part of the scum crime organization that took your brother. Just prep everything for me to fire and hold on! I'm about to do some fancy maneuvering.” He swerved out of the way of a laser shot from one of the other ships. The two attacking ships were smaller but had firepower and were gaining on them. Her breath caught in her throat when her father swerved and dipped, evading all the constant fire to their ship.

“Shamira, I want you to fire at them. Get it right, now. I don't want to waste any shots. I don't want them to have time to run and tell their friends we're on the way,” he said and growled in anger.

She knew how to do it. She'd practice this from the time she could touch a computer. Her hands roamed over the controls and put in the locking sequence. She confirmed on the screen that her approaching targets were coming up quickly. She also put in a sequence to counteract against their fire and smiled to herself with triumph when each and every one of their missiles were met and
destroyed.

“Show off. That's my girl! Ha ha!” her father laughed. She smiled widely. She realized she loved this just as much as hand-to-hand combat.
Ok,
she thought,
maybe not as much as that.

“Dad, I'm going to shoot now,” she said. She was hit by sadness again and anger. Eyebrows frowning, she fired then blew up the two attackers. Her dad pushed them into hyperspeed Level Four. She looked out the window to see streaks of white where stars once hung in the sky. The jet slowed down, and she looked ahead to see the bright reddish ball that was her home—Mars. A feeling of happiness filled her.

“Shamira. Fire! We're being attacked again. Quick. They're coming up from behind,” her dad yelled. He cleverly maneuvered back and forth out of the way of the lasers.

“Dang!” she said. She saw countless fire come their way. She could have kicked herself for dazing out. She quickly locked on the targets, fired, and counter-fired. Breathing hard, she noticed one got away and returned fire. Just as her dad tried to outmaneuver their fire, she managed to hit them.