They Always Find Us

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Dr. Morrison held a small vial up to the light, amber liquid swirling inside. “After all our efforts, all of our sacrifices, we’re so close to a cure.”

Isabelle held her datapad closer to the Doctor, determined to get as clear of an audio recording as possible. They had spent hours in Silver Grandeur’s lab. Her legs ached. With painstaking precision, Dr. Morrison walked Isabelle through all of the functions of Lab Section 1, explaining each device that helped to refine and prepare the contents of the vial in his hand. The soreness she’d feel later would be worth the story. Especially as a Junior Data Reporter.

“Tell us, Doctor,” Isabelle said, shifting weight from one leg to another, “What’s the greatest challenge you’ve faced with Project Find?”

“We’ve all lost people to the sickness, haven’t we?”

Isabelle looked away. 

“No challenge is greater than that of grief,” Dr. Morrison said with a sad smile. “Yet their memory lives on in the work we accomplish.” He gingerly set the vial into its holder on the table in front of them. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Isabelle perked up. “About the beginning. How exactly did this-”

A shudder rocked the ship. Lights flickered in the lab as Dr. Morrison and Isabelle steadied themselves against the table. 

“Seekers,” He muttered as the shaking subsided. Another, more violent shudder, nearly knocked Isabelle off her feet. The vials on the table clattered together. “They always find us.”

Around them, scientists in lab coats hurried to secure loose items. Isabelle found herself being led towards the exit. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short,” the Doctor said, leading her out into the main hallway and shutting the door behind them. “I need to speak with the Captain before one of those things tears a hole in our outer hull again.” 

Isabelle pulled her father into a hug. “Be safe.”

After watching Dr. Morrison race out of sight, she opened her hand and smiled at it. Seated in the palm of her hand was a grey access card. Her father’s. Slipping back inside the lab, Isabelle quickly donned a lab coat, mask, and goggles. Only a few scientists remained. Evidently, the rest had dispersed to secure other sections of Silver Grandeur’s large lab. She snuck to the back of Section 1, connecting her datapad to the lab’s information center – a port in the wall. 

The ship rocked again, and Isabelle steadied herself against the wall.

She switched rapidly from catalogue to catalogue, searching. There had to be something more interesting here. Yes, her father had shown her this section of the lab, but she was not so naïve as to think this was all there was. Scientific breakthrough had to come from somewhere. And a good Data Reporter needed to be willing to break a few rules to find out. 

Isabelle paused on one catalogue. 

Project Find. It read. She inserted Dr. Morrison’s card into her datapad to open the file. Disappointment grew as she read. Most of the words made absolutely no sense. Yes, they were English. But no matter how hard Isabelle squinted at them and sounded them out under her breath, their meaning remained completely foreign. 

But then she spotted something she could understand. 

Successful creation of antidote and enhancement secured via genetic mesh.

Below, it read; See Donor Subject File. Lab Section 13.

She disconnected her datapad and pressed deeper into the lab.

Another shudder shook Silver Grandeur. She began humming softly as she passed more labcoats, remembering the melody her mother would use to comfort her when she was little. After the Seekers first attacked. 

On its one-hundredth and fifty-second year of voyaging in space, five years after Silver Grandeur’s passengers were woken from cryo-sleep, the Seekers struck. So did the sickness. 

Deep space sickness, they called it. 

No one knew what caused it. Some blamed the Seekers, who appeared immune to the disease. With their arrival shortly preceding the first outbreak, they were easy to blame. Some claimed it was a result of extended cryo-sleep. Simply a scientific oversight. And others, the more religious of Silver Grandeur’s passengers, proclaimed it was judgement for their departure from God’s one true home for them – Earth. Apparently, extended cryo-sleep had conveniently allowed them to forget Earth’s death. Reduced to a desolate wasteland, their one true home forced what remained of humanity to flee. 

Her mother was one of the first to die from the sickness. Isabelle was ten at the time. Her father threw himself into a frenzy of work after his wife’s death, refusing to take inevitable death – either by sickness or by Seeker – as the final answer. Fifteen years had since passed.  

Isabelle reached the end of Section 12 and stopped. Before her lay a single door. Lab Section 13. 

Checking behind her to make sure no one was watching, Isabelle opened the door with Dr. Morrison’s access card and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. 

Cold air shocked her. Isabelle shivered. Section 13 was freezing, not to mention smaller than she expected. The room contained only a handful of control panels on either side of the door and a containment unit on the far wall that was coated in frost. 

Isabelle frowned. Was this the Donor Subject?

She approached the unit and used her sleeve to wipe a patch of frost from the glass. 

A dark form moved inside.

Isabelle had seen Seekers before. Windows across the ship gave good view for those with a morbid enough interest to watch them attack. With a snouted maw filled with teeth, an excess of appendages tipped with claws, long wings, and sleek black bodies, they blended easily against the backdrop of space. Only when close enough to Silver Grandeur’s lights did the light of the ship reflecting off their bodies illuminate their presence. In darkness they did not exist.

She squinted at it. It was almost entirely obscured by the remaining frost and the condensation building inside her goggles. Isabelle steadied her breathing, excitement mounting as she removed her goggles to peer inside. She'd never seen one this close before.

Her breath caught in her throat. 

Eyes, eyes that Seekers did not – should not – have, stared back at her. 

It lunged. 

Isabelle jerked backwards, slamming into the panels behind her. The creature thrashed against the glass and Isabelle glanced down in panic as a small alarm sounded on the panel just under her arm.

The sides of the containment unit hissed open.

Isabelle ran. Tearing metal echoed behind her. 

She collided with a labcoat in Section 11. “Go! It’s out!” Not stopping to wait, she ran on through the lab, leaving the startled man behind. Several seconds later there was a scream. A loud crunch. And silence. 

Lungs and legs burning, Isabelle burst into Section 1, the door sliding shut behind her. Several dozen scientists milled about, the ship’s shaking having since stopped. 

“Run,” she said. 

A few labcoats looked at her in confusion. Thudding behind the door she entered grew louder. 

Isabelle tore off her mask, wheezing. “Run!” 

The door she came through flew across the room, crushing a scientist against the wall. Standing a head taller than Isabelle, the creature that entered stood on legs rippling with sleek black muscle. Its head was surprisingly rounded, with something like the remnants of hair dotting the top of its head. It stretched tall and raised tensed arms, claws glinting in the lab’s harsh light. Opening its mouth, the creature let out a roar. 

Scientists screamed and scattered. 

Isabelle raced to the door leading into the rest of the ship. Several scientists followed. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and Isabelle careened to the side just in time to avoid a large metal table as it flew past her and smashed into the door. The labcoats weren’t as lucky. 

An alarm blared in the lab. The scientist who activated it let out a blood-curdling scream from the center of the room as the creature charged him. It roared again, striking claws into both labcoat and control panel. Metal and flesh tore. 

The lab was plunged into darkness. 

Isabelle’s feet slid against the floor, a red emergency light flaring to life and pulsing slowly to illuminate the dark puddle she now stood in. She gagged, fighting to stay upright. Something struck her shoulder and Isabelle went down hard. A woman screamed beside her on the floor, having also fallen, and as the lights flashed Isabelle could make out a tall form to her right. 

The creature crouched low. Isabelle scurried away as darkness returned. Crunching, twisting – a rending of flesh met her ears a few feet away, and warm liquid splattered her face. The woman’s screams fell silent. 

She crawled as quickly as she could until she reached the lab’s wall. Feeling with slick hands along its surface, Isabelle’s fingers found purchase on the metal grooves of a vent grate. Hands shaking, she pulled off the clover, slipped inside the space just wide enough to hold her, and closed it. Cries of terror and agony dwindled one by one. Isabelle could hear them pounding against the crushed door, wailing as they realized it was too damaged to open. A body slammed against the vent grate and slumped to one side. Warm liquid began pooling next to Isabelle and she backed away. Shuffling quietly until she met a curve in the vent shaft, the young Data Reporter choked back tears. Now was not the time to cry. 

A final voice cried out, and with that, the lab was silent. 

Isabelle stopped. 

Another sound had risen to fill the silence. A low vibration, somewhere between a growl and a hum came from the creature. She could feel the sound rumbling in her chest, deep in her lungs and heart, as though tugging on something. Carefully, she started moving again, crawling on slippery hands and knees. 

Her knee skidded to the side and struck the vent shaft with a dull thunk. Isabelle steadied herself, holding her breath. She heard the grate tear free and clatter somewhere inside the lab. 

Isabelle thrust herself around the bend, not caring how much noise she made now as the sounds of thudding and scraping behind her soon followed. With a cry of alarm, Isabelle’s weight-bearing hand slipped out from under her. Her head crashed against the side of the vent. Swaying awkwardly, Isabelle focused blurred vision up ahead. 

Was it her imagination, or was there light around the next bend?

A growling hum propelled her forward. 

Pulling with her arms, Isabelle slid around the final bend and was met by another grate leading down, light pouring from it. Every muscle in her body burned as she raised her hand and struck the grate. 

It didn’t budge. 

With a shriek, she brought her hand down against the grate again. And again and again and again. 

CRASH.

Isabelle dropped to the floor below, pain bursting at her feet. 

“HELP!” Her shout echoed as she limped quickly, turning right at an intersection in the hallway. “HEL-”

A closed blast door barring her path. 

No.

She whirled around to see the creature dash into view. 

No. No.

The creature skidded to a halt, muscles tensing. Bright hallway light finally illuminated the scarlet haphazardly painting both monster and woman. Isabelle’s back pressed against the door. It stalk towards her, moving with slow, purposeful steps. That of a hunter. That of one who knew its place in the pecking order. 

Seekers. They always find us. 

Isabelle’s back slid until she met the ground. She turned her face away. 

“Don’t hurt her!” A voice yelled. Her father’s. 

Isabelle looked up in surprise. The creature turned to face Dr. Morrison, growling deep in its body and lifting its arms in a display.

“Don’t do this,” he said to the creature. 

It roared.

Isabelle sobbed. “What is it?”

It roared again. 

“Dad, what is it?”

His voice was even as he spoke. Measured carefully. “We acquired a Seeker’s DNA many years ago, hoping to find a cure. What we discovered was that they had so much more to offer us.” Dr. Morrison’s eyes flashed with something near-feral. “Strength, Izzy.” She watched through tear-streaked vision as he stepped to one side, the creature tracking his movement. “Strength we could never dream of acquiring on our own. We just needed to bridge the genetic gap.” Her father’s expression grew almost sad as he gazed at the creature. “Human experimentation was the only way. I’m sorry, dear.”

With a rippling of muscle the creature pounced. Isabelle forced her eyes to the ground as the sounds of carnage lifted to join that of the alarm. A sickening cacophony. 

And then the carnage ceased. 

Slow, thudding footsteps approached her. What had once been a growl dwindled to the lowest of vibrations. A soft humming. Isabelle looked at it with a start. 

The creature’s face was close. Strings of sinew hung from red teeth, dripping blood onto Isabelle’s legs. As she looked above the horror of its maw, she saw its eyes. Familiar eyes. A memory pressed uninvited into Isabelle’s mind as the hum reverberated in her chest. Her mother, seated at the edge of Isabelle’s bed, the young girl cowering beneath her blankets as Silver Grandeur shuddered. Feeling a hand on her arm over the blanket, she listened to the melody of her mother’s tune as sleep finally overcame fear.

The creature knelt in front of Isabelle. Extending a single, blood-covered hand, it caressed the side of her face. 

Isabelle’s eyes widened in shock. “Mom?”