The Hive: Part Four (rough draft)

I hear that same repetitive music again and my stomach churns. Rising from the bed, I pinch the bridge of my nose, and groan to try and cover the sound of that music. My mouth and throat both feel dry, and my eyes feel as though they are full of sand. I raise my head, looking up to the window in front of me. I can see Eighty-One and Thirty-Six watching me through the glass.

“She’s awake now,” Thirty-Six announces. “Let’s go.”

Behind them, Forty rises. “Let her wake up some. She’s had a fever for a long time now. Give her a chance to recover.”

“She’s ovulating as we speak!” Thirty-Six hisses impatiently. “Send in the male now! We cannot waist this!”

“No, no,” Forty tuts. “Her body is too weak. She’s been fighting this fever, and she’s probably even more exhausted now than when she fell asleep. I suggest we wait-”

“Wait?” Thirty-Six turns to sneer up at Forty. “We have been waiting! Now is the time for her to be impregnated. If not now, then a month from now and we do not have time for that. She is not your pet, Forty. She is livestock!”

Forty inches away from Thirty-Six. “You still need to see to the health of your livestock. You can’t just force an insemination upon her when she is ill, the stress could make it worse, and then what?”

“Pregnancy is a killer,” Twenty-Two speaks up. Rising from the back and standing beside Forty. “How many of your females have passed away due to their pregnancies?”

Thirty-Six fumes under their breath.

“You want as many offspring as possible, don’t you?” Twenty-Two sounds haughty and gloating. “Then you best treat her like she’s the only miracle you’ve got.”

“Eighty-One,” Thirty-Six snaps. “Send in the male.”

Eighty-One hesitates and clears their throat. “He’s still not well either, Thirty-Six. I hate to admit it, but the lunatics might be right.”

Thirty-Six stiffens then slams their palm upon the glass. “Your female is diseased! She’s rotten! Look what she has done!”

“She was fine until you showed up,” Twenty-Two sneers. “Perfectly healthy and extremely fertile. I say it’s your male who is the disease ridden one.”

“All our stock at the kennel is kept in prime condition.” Thirty-Six jabs their finger into Twenty-Two’s chest. “Perfect diet, exercise, and wellness checks every damn day.”

“Then maybe you’re the one to blame,” Twenty-Two sighs with a dismissive tone. “Maybe this little body of yours is the carrier.”

“How dare you?” Thirty-Six seems fit to burst.

I rise from the bed, dried out, stiff, and sticky. How long have I been asleep? “Forty, I’m thirsty.”

“Coming, Darling!” Forty goes to leave but Eighty-One stops them, grabbing Forty by the shoulder and pulling them back. “She needs me.”

“I’ll take it to her.” Eighty-One growls.

My gut churns and froths again. I don’t want to see them, I can’t stand to be in their presence. They have my father’s face, his body, but everything about them is very much not my father. It makes me sick.

When Eighty-One comes in with the water, I keep my head and down away from them. They set the cup down, and I want to reach for it, but not while they are in the room. I keep my eyes down, almost wanting to close them.

Eighty-One stands there, looking down at me with their arms crossed. “How are you feeling?”

It sounds like him, and it hurts so bad. I clutch my arms tight around my body, curling further into myself. “Tired.”

“How would you like to see your mate?” Eighty-One asks. “Maybe that will make you feel better.”

I look to the cup of water. I reach for it, drinking so I do not have to answer them. I gulp so fast I almost choke. I gasp for breath then go back to finish what is left in the cup.

Eighty-One sneers and steps closer. “You’re human. You don’t know what you want.” They grab me roughly, pulling me to make me look. I lash out, clawing their face and leaving harsh red welts along their forehead and temple. Eighty-One bellows loudly and strikes me across the face, knocking me off the bed.

“Wait for the music! You idiot!” Thirty-Six screams. “This is why I can’t let you into the kennel! Fool!”

Eighty-One stands up and away from me, clutching their hand over their face. He looks as though he’d like to kick me and kill me. But Thirty-Six is probably the only thing holding him back from doing so.

“Don’t turn it on now!” Twenty-Two shouts. “Let us make sure she’s okay!”

Forty rushes in, putting themself between Eighty-One and me. My head hurts, but I would rather risk whatever Eighty-One could do to me to strike him again. I’d love to rip the skin off their face so they didn’t look like my father anymore.

“Are you alright, Darling?” Forty kneels down before me, offering me their hand.

“Let it get up on it’s own,” Eight-One jabs. “I didn’t even hit it that hard. It will be fine.” They come closer and Forty grabs hold of me, knowing I want nothing more than to lash out again.

“Is it sport for you to abuse the humans in your care? What even goes on at that Kennel! I want to know,” Twenty-Two yells. “Humans are rare and valuable, and you let this stupid oaf go around striking them.”

“I don’t let him,” Thirty-Six scoffs.

“Then why bring him here?” Twenty-Two continues. “I am contacting the city directly and asking them to send over two new handlers. Ones who know how to deal with humans who won’t hit them or let them get ill!”

“I am the best there is!” Thirty-Six snaps back. “Eighty-One, get out of there this instant!”

“She hit me first,” Eighty-One tries to argue.

“That’s what humans do, you moron! They lash out when they are scared. You hurt her with your ugly little hands. Get out of there this instant!”

Eighty-One takes one last look at me as they go to leave. They look like my father, but those eyes they have. Even if Twenty-Two and Forty had eyes, they’d look the same as Eighty-One’s. They’d be hollow, empty, almost dead. There was nothing left in Eighty-One that was my father. I see that now. All there is, is skin and bone, nothing on the inside that would constitute a living, breathing human like me, like Hemlock.

There is no music. So what’s holding me back? I attack Eighty-One. I have rarely ever had to use my bare hands on something. I have always had a weapon, but my father taught me well should I ever be in a situation where I had to fight for my life. Eighty-One doesn’t see it coming. I think Forty did because their grip on me was less than air. Something shuts and locks the door, maybe Twenty-Two did it. I don’t know. There’s still no music so I keep going. Eighty-One fights back, of course he does, but I’ve already gotten the upperhand. Once he falls to the ground I stay on him. There’s blood under my nails, skin in my teeth. Once Forty comes close enough, possibly to stop me for good, I take off their head. The way Forty’s head was concave with that dent, there is a sharp edge at the top of his head where the metal was splitting open. I use it, as well as the heaviness of the metal, to make sure Eighty-One never looked like my father again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The music starts, but it’s too late. Everything is red and slick in my hands. Eighty-One got in a few good shots. My face hurts and my nose is bleeding, maybe, I can’t tell. Headless Forty pulls me back, locking my arms so I can’t move. But I am done, I accomplished what I wanted to. Thirty-Six is yelling. Twenty-Two is screaming. I take deep breaths between the notes of the music.

“Let me go,” I say to Forty.

“No.”

I sway my head side to side. My father is dead, he can finally rest. I’m relieved, both for that and because I don’t feel that anger anymore. Even with Hemlock it was there.

“Get her out of there before Eighty-One wakes up,” Twenty-Two says calmly.

“Figures,” Thirty-Six snarls. “That female is too violent. How do you expect her to raise any young?”

“She was docile with the male,” Twenty-Two scoffs back.

Forty drags me from my old room, closing the door behind them. I’m carried through the halls and open corridors again, taken to another room that’s less inviting. Forty places me inside, looking at me even though they didn’t have a head.

“Well,” they whisper.

I look away, keeping my eyes pointed at the ground. Blood splatters fall from my face, and I bit a wad of hair out from under my nails.

“Clean up,” Forty speaks with a small, stern voice. “There is a sink over there. Wash yourself, get rid of all...that.” They stand there a second longer. “This door doesn’t lock. So don’t leave.”

I look up at Forty, headless though they are, I would like to imagine them smiling at me. “Wh-where would I go?”

“Don’t go anywhere,” they say slowly. “Especially not down the hallway on your left. Nothing down there except your mate’s chambers. Thirty-Six will be taking care of Eighty-One, so they will be busy for a few hours. Twenty-Two and I will have to clean up the mess. So you will not be checked on for some time.”

I stare at them blankly. “Was I...supposed to do this?”

“You were supposed to do something.” Forty turns back then hesitates. “I’m sorry.” They then leave, shutting the door behind them.

I sit there by myself, not having heard such quiet since I came into this place with Nanny. I listen to the sound of my own breathing, focusing on it in case I started to hear music from somewhere. After a while, I know I have to move. I get up and use the sink like Forty instructed. I wash the blood from my face and hands, the chunks from under my nails. I rinse out my mouth. A tooth feels strangely loose from Eighty-One’s punch to my jaw. I look around the room for a moment, but there are no strange windows. Only the door.

I cautiously approach it, touching the handle which causes the door to push open. I push more, peering outside into the Mall. I recognize this place from when I first arrived. It was just before the room with the big dome in the ceiling. I step out, looking through the shadows and flickering lights there. I smell dust, and beyond that I smell rain. I go down the hallway, finding a room with a locked door, but a key has been left inside the lock. All I have to do is open it.

I stop. I look at the key, the door. What if this is a trap? They could be setting me up and waiting for me inside. I could never see Hemlock again and I could be taken to this Kennel in their city. I pull my hand away from the doorknob. I have two choices. I can leave here, find Nanny, and take her with me, living our lives as we used to. Never stopping. Just moving. Or, I could open this door and find my fate behind it. I could be held forever, listening to the music all my life. But I could also find Hemlock, go with him, find a place we could make our own.

I pull my hand back and away, clutching it to my chest. I let out a simpering cry, but I try to keep my voice down. There’s a knock at the door that raises my eyes. I cautiously reach out, taking the key again and turning it, unlocking the door. I knock back and the door opens from inside. Hemlock looks down at me, eyes bewildered.

“You’re alone?” He whispers.

“There’s no time!” I take hold of his hand. “We have to go. Now! I’ll explain later.”

Hemlock grasps my hand, but he’s apprehensive. “I’ve been here for days and heard nothing. Now you’re here, alone, with none of them around. This feels like a trap.”

It’s not enough to stay here, even if it means I get to be with him. There’s still a chance Forty and Twenty-Two could save me, but likely, after attacking Eighty-One, even at the Kennel my freedom would be limited. “I know. I feel the same way. But I’ve made my choice now by touching that key. You can stay, but I will be leaving.” I can’t linger here. Not for him.

Hemlock looks at me, those earthy eyes only serve to remind me of the world outside. He stiffens his jaw and tightens his hand around mine. “But to where?”

I am relieved, but I cannot lean into that relief yet. “I have to find Nanny first. Luckily, that leads us away from where They are.” I lead him towards the sanctuary where Forty had taken me before where they kept the animals. I needed Nanny to survive the journey, without her I wouldn’t have survived as long as I have. I search for her, going around the other animals and their coops trying to hunt her down.

“All these animals,” Hemlock says in awe. “This is amazing.”

“I just need Nanny.” I remain stalwart in that motive. I then see a little goat that looks remarkably like Nanny. I follow it, chasing it down to where there are more, and Nanny is with them. My Nanny had kids.

Nanny races up to me, nudging my hand while all her children flock around her, bleating, jumping, and playing. Another goat is laying in the back, his horns huge and curled back. My heart sinks when I realize Nanny has a mate, she has babies. She can’t leave them and we can’t take them with us.

“What’s wrong?” Hemlock asks.

“I can’t take her,” I confess. “She’s happy here she’s…” I stand and shake my head. “There must be a way out from here.”

“You’re not going to take her?” Hemlock sounds confused. “Why not?”

“Leave it at that. I have enough to explain already.” I step away from Nanny who then begins to trot away. I’m distraught, I’ve always had Nanny. But this is all too much. I have to think fast, Thirty-Six could appear at any moment.

Then, Hemlock’s hand claps down upon my shoulder. “Bramble, look.”

My gaze lands upon Nanny and her kids as they disappear behind a wall of wines. We follow them, discovering an entrance leading into a deep, dark tunnel. Nanny bleats from within, as if she’s beckoning for us to follow.

“Is this a way out?” Hemlock whispers.

I step inside, following the sound of Nanny as she goes ahead. I take Hemlock’s hand in mine, going down this dark tunnel together. My father had always told me not to travel in darkness as it wasn’t safe, but leaving through daylight would not be safe now either. Soon though, I see light at the end of the tunnel. Nanny leads us out in an area that is lush with trees and greenery. It’s cool here, and the air smells heavy with rain. The earth is soft and damp beneath my feet, and hidden amongst the trees there is a small house.

“We must have gone underground,” Hemlock whispers.

I walk forward, standing there in the cool and damp as Nanny and her kids started to gnaw at the brush. I look back at Hemlock, eyes widen open and breathless. “Are we free then?”

“Running I think is the better word,” he murmurs.

We decide to inspect the house, finding that inside it is furnished and filled with supplies. I decided that Forty and Twenty-Two had been building this and preparing this for us for a long time. Perhaps this is what they meant when they said they wished to save humanity.

In the house, Forty and Twenty-Two have left us countless resources for us to learn from. There are dozens of books, detailing how to farm and cultivate the earth. There are books dedicated to care of the animals, as well as identifying certain plants in our surroundings. I teach Hemlock to read so that we can both learn as much as possible from the books left to us.

As time passes, my belly soon swells and grows heavy. I can feel our child moving inside. While we are happy, Hemlock and I are both also terrified. There are moments when we forget, but we always remember. We are not always safe, we could be found out. Not only that, what if the worst were to happen during this pregnancy? Sure, we had books to look at, but neither of us knew a thing about bringing this life into the world. Lots could go wrong. I could get sick. I could die. I now missed Forty more than ever.

One afternoon, I was restless and unable to make my mind settle, so I went on a walk. My belly was growing bigger, and I knew before too long I might not be able to do this again. I wanted to wander the land around our new home, as all we had done was set up some defenses as well as begin setting up a garden and pens for the animals that wandered between the tunnel and here. We’d kept close to home, learning, growing from there. I’d gone deeper into the woods, but never far enough that I couldn’t see some sign of home.

I soon came to a strange patch of earth where there were no trees and no grass. It was just packed earth with some hints of weeds. Near the edge there was a poll with a box on it. There were colored wires coming down from the box and under the ground. I pulled on one, which led to the base of a nearby tree. Tugging on another it led a little further, stopping at what looked like a stack of rocks. I tried to move the rocks, but when I did they didn’t budge. They were solid and stuck together. Moving aside some vines and bushes, I discovered these rocks went all the way down. I stepped over the rocks, but a few feet ahead, just beyond the trees, I saw my own reflection peer back at me, just like the window in my old room.

I stepped away and went back over the wall. I left that strange poll and wires, heading home. I tried to convince myself I was seeing things. I must be tired, I might be getting sick. I haven’t eaten anything in a while, that could be it too. Hemlock is looking for me as soon as I get home. He smiles, taking me inside and showing me some of the things he’s been going over in the books. He’s found more seeds, found some twine for bean stalks. I sit there in silence, thinking about the face my reflection held. I look back at Hemlock, his smile bright and excited.

I could tell him they’re still watching us. I could probably assume the tunnel is sealed if we tried to leave. I swallow and place my hand upon my belly, forcing myself to smile back at him. From then on, I strain to listen for the music.