Ducking low beneath the cover of abandoned cars and trucks, Cassie dashed up the ramp much quieter than her counterpart. Behind her, Mr. Bean’s footfalls were heavy and loud. The black boots on his feet must have been steel-toed, and the oil stains on his blue mechanic’s jumpsuit were easier to see in the light of day. His duster jacket trailed behind him as he clomped after her, arms cradling the black Culicidae gun in his arms.

At the trunk of an SUV, Cassie paused and waited for him to catch up. They had managed to reach the third level of the parking garage without detection. Alien soldiers were wandering all around the complex, sweeping streets and alleyways, but they had yet to run into any resistance inside the concrete building, a sign that her plan to draw the aliens out had worked. She had also not found Dan and Scout yet. Hoping that her companions had not abandoned the top level, Cassie took a deep breath and pushed onward.

Staying hidden, they snuck their way through the final floor of the building and cautiously peeked out over the rooftop. The blue vehicle they had siphoned gasoline from rested on the far side, half melted and spilling a column of smoke into the air. Knowing the Culicidae space craft was still resting on the street below, Cassie led the way to the vehicle and rounded the heat-warped plastic bumper to find Dan sitting on the ground with his legs stretched before him.

He jolted in surprise, brought up the barrel of his shotgun and pointed it at her. Coated in a shining layer of sweat, he paused and eyed her in confusion before relief sagged his fearful expression when he finally accepted that it was her standing in front of him. Dropping the gun back to his lap, he said, “Cassie. Thank god you’re all right. But what are you doing here?”

Scout whined and came up to her, licking her hands as she knelt to pet his gray fur. She said, “I drew them away to save your life, thank you very much. I’m going to rescue you.”

Dan frowned. “Yeah, and now we both have to figure out how to get out of here. You should have ran away like I told you.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “As my gutter-rat ninja master said, ‘sometimes you must follow your heart even when others tell you not to’.”

The quote made Dan smirk, and he only shrugged in response.

“Besides,” Cassie continued, “there’s three of us now. I’d say that’s a fifty percent increase in our chances of getting out of here. Dan, meet Mr. Bean.” With a beckoning motion, she instructed the big man around the car and into Dan’s view, who looked the stranger up and down with a confused expression. Scout growled in a low tone, seemingly untrusting of the big eye-like lenses of Bean’s gas mask as he looked down upon him.

“No. Be nice,” Cassie instructed the dog. To Dan, she explained, “Bean saved me. I ran down into a basement but the Culicidae followed after. He killed both of them.”

“Well,” Dan said hesitantly, “thank you Mr. Bean… for protecting Cassie. She’s a good kid, but more trouble than she’s worth.” He winked at her. “Tell me, where are you from?”

“Oh, he doesn’t talk,” Cassie said. “I don’t think he can. Bean’s mute, and I gave him the name in case you’re wondering.”

“Well that explains things… All right,” Dan said with a groan as he repositioned himself. “Thanks anyways, Bean. Now, I don’t mean to be a let-down, but how are we going to get out of Cleveland with this?” Lifting his left leg with his arm, he crossed it over his other knee, revealing the most gruesome stub of a limb Cassie had ever seen. Raising her hand over her mouth, she gasped. Dan’s leg ended at his ankle. No shoe. No foot. Only a charred stub.

Cassie had to look away. She remembered the moments after she had zip-lined to the street below, remembered seeing the green light of a disintegration blast blooming underneath Dan’s feet. She hadn’t thought it got him after he shouted down to her. He said he was fine. What hurt the most was that she wasn’t even observant enough to realize he was wounded until he pointed it out to her.

“Looks bad, doesn’t it?” Dan said with a pained smirk. “Luckily, those things cauterize so there’s no worry of blood loss. Didn’t exactly want a foot amputation, though…”

“How are you going to get all the way back to Grier on that?” Cassie asked. “It’s twenty miles. Even if we left right now and didn’t stop, we wouldn’t get back there until morning. And that’s if you didn’t slow us down. Not to mention that there’s still Culicidae out and about. How are we going to stay hidden or outrun them? And what about the possibility of infection? We can’t hope to keep—”

“Cassandra!” Dan said, cutting her off. “You’re worrying is making me worry. Calm down. Breathe. We’ll find a way. I’m not too worried about infection, so long as we keep it covered. I’ll need you to wrap it up with the first aid kit in my bag. Think you can handle that? Good. And as far as walking is concerned, I’ll just need a shoulder or something to use as a crutch. I appreciate the concern, but I’m going to die of a panic-induced heart attack if you keep going.”

Doing as she was told, Cassie took a deep breath and held the air in her lungs for a moment. Dan was right, and using her full name got through to her. Being fearful was only clouding her judgement, and it wouldn’t do any of them any good if she panicked. Releasing her breath with a sigh, she grabbed Dan’s backpack, pulled out the first aid kit, and got to work.

Cassie was no field medic, but she made do. To her surprise, sanitizing and handling the stub didn’t gross her out as bad as she thought it would. The hardest part turned out to be knotting the strip of gauze tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off. When finished, she stood. Dan seemed pleased enough, and began to push himself up with both arms and his good leg.

Leaning against the SUV, Dan held out his arm to wrap it around her shoulder, but as she moved closer to support him, a big arm held her back. Mr. Bean looked down at her, the metal rims of his mask’s shaded lenses gleaming in the sunlight.

“What?” Cassie asked.

Bean held the alien rifle out in front of her, shook it as though he was trying to tell her to take it. Hesitantly, she took the strange weapon in her hands. The gun was heavier than she was used to and far more complicated. Buttons with alien symbols lined the side of the bulky receiver, and she pondered the meaning behind a flashing orange light.

“Does it kick hard?” Cassie asked warily. “How do you even shoot this thing?”

Mr. Bean seemed to understand her last question well enough. Pointing out a button to her, he poked it with his big gloved finger. The light changed to green and the gun seemed to come alive in her hands. A slight vibration crept its way up her arm as the radioactive glow inside the gun began to shine. Bean pointed at another button, but did not touch it, then jerked his arm and shoulder back to mimic the recoil of shooting. Cassie understood, nodding. The first button armed the gun, the second fired it. She was careful to push the first button, letting the green light fade, and the orange blinking light signifying it was on ‘safe’, return.

Dan had to stretch his arm upwards to get it over Bean’s shoulder and begin leaning his weight on the giant, but everyone’s surprise, the big silent man reached behind Dan’s knees and scooped him into his arms. Cassie laughed as Dan cursed and struggled at first. He did not like being held like a baby, and refused to be carried. Bean, on the other hand, either didn’t care how Dan felt, or simply didn’t understand why he was thrashing around. Try as he did, Dan could not get free of the Bean’s grasp.

“Calm down there, junior,” Cassie said with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want big papa to drop you, would you?”

Dan gave up his struggling just long enough to glare at her, eyes hard and cold. His lips a pouting shape, he said, “You’ll regret saying that.”

Cassie laughed even harder. Seeing Dan like this was certainly amusing, but she let the giggles fade as she remembered they had a long distance to travel in order to get back to Grier. There was no sense in waiting any longer. With a quick command to Scout, they were off. Cassie led the way, going past the car ramp and to an enclosed stairway on the far side of the building.

In the spiraling concrete tunnel of steps, the heavy sounds of Bean’s plodding footfalls echoed loudly, but she hoped that their quick decent to the ground level would go unnoticed. She stepped outside the door and paused to listen for the sounds of Culicidae troops. There were none. When they passed by the wooden arm of the parking garage and stepped out onto the sidewalk, Cassie dared think that they just might make it out of Cleveland alive.

They sprinted across the street, into an alleyway with a ’T’ intersection between the buildings, and chose the path to the right. Before long, they were running through residential areas and cutting through the back yards of old victorian homes. It wasn’t until they reached a cemetery on the edge of town that they slowed to a walking pace.

Cassie glanced behind her and examined Bean. His chest rose and fell quickly as he worked to catch his breath, but he showed no sign of needing to stop, put Dan down, or rest. He was faring well and far better than she thought he would be. As for Dan, he looked agitated and uncomfortable in the giant’s arms.

It wasn’t until they were walking between beech and red maple trees that Cassie felt they were truly safe. The Culicidae wouldn’t go so far as to search the acres upon acres of overgrown forest that rested between Greir and Cleveland in order to find them. Throwing the alien rifle over her shoulder, she let out a long sigh, grateful that she didn’t have to use it. Adding the gun to the armory in Grier would be far more valuable than the measly food and gas they had scavenged, even if it only had enough of a charge for a few shots.

“So,” Cassie began, “Are we going to stop in the junkyard and rest or push through the night?”

Dan scratched at his chin. “Um, well it’s kind of up to Bean, here. But considering he can’t really say yes or no, I vote we just push on until it’s clear he’s too tired to continue. If we have to, we can just throw out bedrolls and sleep in the woods. Should be okay.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m ready to sleep in my own bed.”

“It’s settled then.”

Cassie stepped over a fallen log, a pile of leaves crunching underfoot on the other side. The way the afternoon sunlight filtered through the autumn colors of the treetops was beautiful. Fall was definitely her favorite season, it was just too bad that night was rushing in, and with it the oncoming cold.

When darkness had fully descended on the forest, making traversing the rugged terrain slow and difficult, and Bean began to stumble more and more frequently, they did decide to rest. Without a fire, the cold breeze nipped at Cassie’s skin as she tried to nap, but sleep did not come easily, or for long. It seemed she had only just fallen asleep when the light of dawn set the horizon a glowing orange. With disgruntled moans, everyone rose and they resumed their journey within ten minutes of waking.

The pains and aches of walking for so long were worse now that they had laid down on sticks and bumpy ground. Dan was grumpy, and even Bean seemed more tired than before they had slept. But, luckily for them, within a few more hours they broke out of the dense woods and stepped onto the tall overgrown grass of a field. In the distance, atop a hill, sat a small cluster of white buildings. A big colonial style plantation house sat front and center. From the second level balcony that wrapped around the home, one could look out over the entire Grier estate.

Metal barns and workshops stretched down the slope along a dirt road, until rows upon rows of trees rested in the field between Cassie and the end of that road. As of now, the orchard trees were changing colors and some were nearly bare of leaves, but in the summer Greir thrived on apples, peaches, pears, and a few berry bushes. What was not consumed immediately was canned, then either stored or traded with nearby settlements.

At first glance, no one would suspect that nearly one hundred people lived in Grier. Things were left in disrepair on purpose, to make the place seem abandoned. The home and barns had leaking roofs. Wood was allowed to rot, and metal rust, in places it did not hurt the foundation or strength of the walls. The orchard trees had grown far taller and more chaotic in their spacing than what they would have normally been allowed to in its pre-invasion commercial setting. Tractors were left out in the open, unused and decaying in the elements.

They crossed the field with haste, stepping over the occasional piece of discarded, rotting or animal-picked fruit that had been left on the ground because of spots or its condition. Once clear of the orchard, a line of bent sheet metal and felled trees formed a long lumpy line on the ground that separated the field from the cluster of buildings. As they approached it, a voice called out for them to halt.

“It’s only me, Cassie. Dan’s with me, but he’s injured. And the big guy holding him is Bean, for lack of a better name.”

There was movement in a small space between the sheet metal and the grass; the barrel of a gun retracted from the covered bunker. She could hear the guards murmuring, followed by more movement as one of them rushed off down the long trench until he was out of sight. The trench that ran around the entire perimeter of Grier also had a series of tunnels that connected to all of the buildings. Large chambers had been dug out of the earth, serving as store rooms and emergency bunkers that could be used for months at a time, and were often, in fact, used for months at a time.

Within minutes, the guard returned and said, “Sarge wants you to meet up with Jen and Oscar in the big house, they’ll be able to take a look at him. Be quick about it, too. Already had two fly-overs today.”

“Thanks,” Cassie said. The mention of more Culicidae put a pep into her step. Finding the closest place to cross the covered trench, she vaulted a tipped over log, then turned to see if Bean needed help with Dan. Bean, being the brute that he was, simply lifted his leg and stepped on the fallen tree with his boot, then launched himself over it and the rest of the barrier while snapping the tree underneath him in the process. Landing with a thud, he regained his composure and looked at her as though it was no harder than hopscotch. Dan, on the hand, was grabbing Bean’s arm and jacket so tightly his knuckles were white.

Cassie chuckled, spun around and led the way up to the plantation house. Big colonnades and a patio surrounded every side of the colonial home. The pillars had big patches of white paint were peeling and flaking off, while a disarrayed assortment of lawn furniture was scattered about the concrete. Before she reached the door, it swung open on its own volition.

Jen, a woman in her forties, beckoned them to quickly step inside. Cassie was first, getting patted on the back as she entered the front hallway, and Bean and Dan were inside in moments. Taking off her boots before the grand staircase, she turned back to Jen and said, “Dan needs to be looked at. His foot got disintegrated.”

Jen nodded and tucked her chin-length sandy hair behind her ears. “Get him on that couch over there. I’ll have a look, but Oscar should be down in a minute.” As the older woman pointed to the sofa, Cassie couldn’t help but notice how jittery Jen’s hands were. She wiped her palms on her sweaty forehead, then dried them on her jeans. Cassie supposed that was to be expected, considering that Jen had only been a veterinarian before the invasion, and tending to a patient missing a foot or limb was probably one of her rarer occurrences. In fact, most people that got wounded in a Culicidae incident simply didn’t make it, which meant Dan was very lucky.

Oscar came barreling down the stairway, the metal first-aid case in his arms bouncing against his belly as he ran. “I’m here, I’m here,” he said frantically. After a moment of hesitation at his sight of Bean, he ushered the big guy forward with a gentle nudge while Jen arranged the pillows on the sofa in the other room. The portly man set his first aid kit on the coffee table while everyone gathered in the living area.

Cassie got Mr. Bean’s attention, then pointed to the couch. “Put him down,” she instructed, and Mr. Bean went to do just that. Widening his stance, the big man began to plop Dan down onto the cushions when Dan’s hand snagged on Mr. Bean’s jumpsuit, popping the snaps loose and revealing a black carapace instead of a fleshy chest. The hard, bug-like shell dully reflected the light that filtered through the windows.

The room exploded into activity. Dan jerking himself away from Mr. Bean, Jen screaming in terror as she clutched herself tightly, and Oscar bellowing as he pulled a stainless steel revolver from his side and pointed it at the Culicidae. Mr. Bean grunted and groaned like a horse as he backed away, keeping his gloved hands visible above him.

Cassie was frozen. She couldn’t believe it. Mr. Bean, an alien! The signs were there the whole time, but she hadn’t seen it! His inability to talk, his gas mask and the hat and scarf that covered his skin, not to mention his incredible size and physical prowess.

As Oscar pulled back the hammer on his gun, readying it to fire, Cassie knew she had to do something. She bolted, crossing the distance and putting herself between Bean and Oscar. She jumped, flailed and yelled over the commotion.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Don’t shoot him! Don’t shoot him, please!”

“Cassie,” Oscar growled, “Get the hell out of the way.”

“No!”

“Cassie, do as he says!” Dan shouted from the couch.

“No! I won’t move. Don’t shoot him! Don’t you see? He helped us. Saved us. We can’t shoot him, that would be wrong.”

The room began to calm and quiet; Jen’s screaming stopped as did Bean’s grunting as he crouched behind Cassie, taking cover. But Oscar did not lower his gun. Underneath his gray, bushy brows, his brown eyes glared heavily at her.

Cassie’s heart was racing, and as she spoke she found herself out of breath. “Don’t shoot him. Bean killed two armored Culicidae right in front of me, to save me, and then he saved Dan’s life, too. Bean carried Dan all the way from Cleveland. That’s over twenty miles! Please, whatever you do, you can’t kill him. Tell them, Dan. Tell them that I’m telling the truth.”

Jen and Oscar both looked to Dan, who was red in the face and dumbfounded. It took him a moment to think and collect his thoughts, but he said, “Bean did save us.”

Oscar cursed. “You expect me to trust this… This alien? His species invaded this planet, damn near destroyed it, too! You’re outta your minds if you think I’m going to let this thing live. Who knows, it could be a spy! We can’t release it. I’m sorry, Cassie. Step aside. This has to be done.”

“Now hold on just a minute,” a gruff voice said. Entering through the open french doors came a man Cassie had only spoken with a handful of times. Dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, Sarge placed a hand on the grip of his pistol and grimaced a wrinkly smile of amusement at all the excitement. Sarge was an older man, a grizzled army veteran who always talked about the old days when he rode motorcycles across the country, but most importantly, he was in charge of Grier.

“Let me get this all straight, here,” Sarge said as he scratched the skin under his salt-and-pepper beard. “This guy… This alien, saved you two?”

“Yes,” Cassie said. “I—I don’t know how, or why, but he’s a friend. He’s not one of them anymore. The fact he’s a Culicidae doesn’t matter. He saved our lives. Just look at him. No armor and no weapons.” She turned to Oscar, who still held his gun pointed at the two of them, and said, “Are you gonna shoot him like a dog? A helpless dog that doesn’t understand what’s being said around him as I try to barter for his life?”

Oscar turned red. “Just let me finish this, Sarge. We can’t be having a blood-sucker around here. Think of the kids.”

Sarge played with his lip as he thought. When he was about to speak, Cassie feared the worse and cut him off. “Please,” She said. “I—I can prove it to you that he’s not like the others. Just give me some time. I’ll—“ She froze for a second as an idea came to her. “I’ll teach him how to talk.”

Sarge and Oscar laughed, loud and haughty at her proposal. “And just how do you propose doing that, Cass? You know what he’s got under that mask? Mandibles like an ant, crunchy bug lips, razor sharp teeth, and a proboscis to stick you with and suck you dry like a mosquito. How can you teach that to talk? Shit, it doesn’t even have a tongue.”

Cassie swallowed, heart pumping furiously as her mind raced for something that would save Mr. Bean. The others might not see it, but Bean was a softy. A big dumb softy. Well, maybe not so dumb since he knew how to operate Culicidae weaponry, but he was soft and capable of compassion and protecting others. Just yesterday, their current roles were reversed and she was in the shoes he was wearing now. When she was alone in that basement where they first met, he could have easily killed her for finding her and bringing the other aliens down into his home. But he didn’t. He saved her. But Cassie knew she could only say so much for Bean. Eventually, he would have to be able to defend himself and explain how he came to betray his own kind. There was no other way.

Cassie took a deep breath and said, “I’ll teach him how to speak with morse code.”