by Jake Stone
“Sure,” she says with a mocking grin. “After you.”
I snort. How could I expect anything less from her? This is the same woman who spent an entire week without any sleep trying to develop the optimal work schedule so that we could hit our numbers ahead of time. She would’ve gone down with the Titanic if she thought she could’ve saved it.
Okay. Focusing my attention on the data pad, I draw up everything I know about particle colliders. How they’re built. How they’re run. Even theories warning of their catastrophic results. Nothing. I have nothing.
“The light, Xander,” Rachel says, her voice full of fear. “It’s getting brighter.”
I squint as I struggle to decipher the data, trying to peer through the immense glare. But it’s too bright, it’s too powerful. Suddenly, the light is so overwhelming, that I can’t even see my way back to the elevator. We’re stranded.
The realization is terrifying, and all I can do is throw my arms around Rachel, the girl I grew up with, the woman I’ve come to admire, my best friend, trying to shield her from the uncontrollable light that seems boundless.
It’s then, as I feel my skin begin to burn, that I hear the terrible sound of electricity crackling around us. Like a giant spherical cage, it traps us in place, pulsing into a rising thunder that bangs at my eardrums like a giant hammer. This is madness. It’s then, as I watch the pieces of my flesh begin to tear away from my bones, drifting into the air like floating dust particles, that the electricity hits a terrifying crescendo, evaporating my body in a flash and thrusting my world into darkness.
Chapter Two
When I open my eyes, I see only night.
The laboratory is gone, and so are the people. A cold wind whips past my face, bringing with it a storm of debris. I pull up the hood of my sweatshirt, shivering as I stare out at an open desert, both astonished and horrified by what I’m looking at.
“What the hell?”
At my side, Rachel slowly uncoils from her feet, her arms crossing against her chest as she joins me in my view.
“What happened?” she asks.
I shake my head, still struggling against the cold that seems to be getting worse by the second. In all honesty, I have no fucking clue. One second, we were in the tunnel trying to fix the particle collider, the next, we’re here in an expansive desert.
“Xander, look.”
I follow Rachel’s gaze as she looks up into the sky, shocked to find what looks to be two moons hovering to our left. They’re amazingly bright, bathed in the light of some unknown sun, and frighteningly close. So close that I can see the craters of their surfaces almost perfectly.
“This…this is impossible.” The energy it takes to break my shock is tremendous. It takes everything I have to keep from going crazy, but it’s hard. I’m freaking out. And worse, so’s Rachel.
I’m just about to lose my shit when off in the distance, I glimpse a wall of lights moving closer to us. Squinting, I realize that it’s not a wall, but a plane of some sort, some type of craft that’s hovering over the ground.
I glance at Rachel. She’s shivering. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to me. She turns into my embrace, and I feel her face pressing into my chest. I hold her tighter.
“What’s happening?” she asks, nearly crying.
“I don’t know,” I say.
Her distress keeps me sane. It’s a distraction, a warning: I need to man-up and stay calm—for both of us.
“It’ll be okay,” I whisper. “There’s got to be an explanation for all of this.”
As the plane draws nearer, I’m able to study its shape. I know nothing about planes. But just from its polygonal structure and the green thrusters burning beneath its wings, I can tell that it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s more like a craft from a sci-fi movie.
The craft descends to the ground, its thrusters lifting the dirt around it into a wild storm of dust. I shut my eyes as dirt swirls around me, holding Rachel closer to shield her from the debris.
“What’s going on?” she asks, her face nestled in my chest. “Who are they?”
I squint through the storm of dust at the craft’s lights, able to make out the dark shadows unloading from the ramp. They’re a mixed bag of shapes; tall, short, fat, thin. But their quiet silhouettes looming above us sends a chill through me and suddenly I just know they’re not friendly.
The figures draw closer, and as they do, I see that some of them are carrying assault rifles. But they’re strange. They have advanced structures, like triple cylindrical barrels with laser sitings that roam searchingly over our bodies. Even the cartridges look different, appearing more like battery packs than bullet receptacles.
The figures form up behind their leader, a tall, slender figure in a black duster, whose hands stretch out welcomingly. “By heaven’s mercy,” he says, his voice as smooth as steel. “What do we have here?”
The dark figures crowd around me, and I’m suddenly hit with the reek of spicy air. It barrages my senses with images of dead dogs stuck on the side of the road. When the leader’s face finally comes into view, I’m shocked to see a face that’s been half eaten, revealing a metal jaw with sharp teeth.
“My God,” Rachel whispers.
“Say behind me,” I warn, taking the lead.
The figures stand around me in a half circle, their faces marked by a grave disease that has eroded their skin and parts of their skulls. In their place, they use strange machinations to survive. Breathing apparatuses. Robotic eyes. Metal appendages. It’s a freakish sight that scares the shit out of me.
“Who are you?” I demand. “What the fuck is this place?”
The leader’s eyes narrow. “So, you really are off-world, huh?” he asks in amazement. “I guess Sarga wasn’t lying.”
“Sarga?” I ask.
He answers me with a smirk. “No one you need to know about.”
And with that, he waves his men forward. The diseased figures flank us on both sides. I’ve never been in a fight before. And I’m scared. But my need to defend Rachel is greater than anything I’ve ever known. I pull her behind me as I take a step back, my hands balling into fists.
The first figure, an obese giant with a breathing apparatus, grabs me by the front of my sweatshirt. I punch him in the face, my hand nearly breaking from the impact. But his head barely turns.
“Gromm says, ‘nice try,’” the giant muses, his voice crackling through the mechanical filter. His grip tightens on my sweatshirt, and I’m yanked forward, my connection to Rachel severing in an instant. Behind me, I can hear her cries as she’s yanked away by a much shorter and slimmer version of the giant monster.
“Leave her alone!” I yell.
My voice dies as I’m punched in the stomach. The pain is excruciating. I double over and fight to breathe as air rushes from my lungs. Panting, I try to stay conscious.
Rachel…
They drag us up the ramp, yanking us into the back of the ship, where I’m horrified to find what looks to be a slave pen. Beautiful women, their clothes stripped, their bodies naked, stand upright against metal poles, their wrists bound by metal cuffs. Our appearance stirs them from their lethargy.
Holy fuck…
I grimace as I’m shoved from behind. Rachel falls beside me, her hands clasping my sweatshirt as she stares up in horror at the naked women.
“Split’em apart,” the leader orders.
“Xander!” Rachel screams, reaching out to me as she’s pulled away.
I reach out as well, desperate to keep her, only to feel the tips of her fingers before we’re finally yanked apart.
“Let her go!” I scream.
“Shut this one up,” the leader says.
I fall to the ground, winded as the hulking giant punches me again in the stomach, my guts nearly jumping out of my throat from the impact. I fall to my knees, blinking in pain, forced to watch as they drag Rachel toward the center of the ship, where they shove her to her kne
es before what appears to be a bald dwarf, who’s holding a whip.
The tiny monster’s lips peel back in excitement as he discovers Rachel’s bountiful cleavage and round hips, an abnormally long tongue running disgustingly across his chapped lips. “And what do we have here?” he asks, his voice pitched high. “Something pretty? Yes, pretty, indeed.”
He nods at the men, giving his approval. They’re quick with their work. They tie her wrists with metal cuffs, connecting them to a steel cable that’s connected to the roof. With the pull of a lever, she’s lifted into the air, where she hangs, suspended, helpless.
I watch as one of the monsters rips her blouse from behind, tearing it apart and revealing a pair of heavy breasts that jiggle from the impact.
“Xander!” she yells, trying to get loose.
I look away, unable to watch. But I’m suddenly gripped by the hair, head pulled back, forced to continue watching as they strip her naked.
First, they rip off her bra, followed by her dark jeans. It leaves her almost completely naked, revealing an hourglass figure adorned in black lingerie.
She crosses her legs on instinct, twisting her hips to the side so that I can’t see her. But it doesn’t matter. With one tug, the monster behind her rips the thong from her body, and she’s left naked for everyone to see.
Her body is perfection. Milky-white skin, perfectly rounded breasts, medium-sized nipples, a cleanly shaved pussy with plump lips. She’s a perfection I never noticed.
The monster behind her reaches up to cup her breasts, smiling at me as he licks the side her neck.
“Bastards!” I seethe.
“Hey!” a voice says.
I turn to see a man in a leather vest, his hair cropped short. He comes marching from the front, gun in hand, and blasts the monster’s head apart. Brains explode against the metal wall of the craft, and his body topples to the ground.
“No fucking with the merchandise,” the young man says, holstering his gun.
“Well said, Danzin,” the leader agrees. He rests a hand on the young man’s shoulder and looks out at his men with a stern face. “The merchandise is for Sarga only. No marks; no bruises. Now bag her and let’s get the hell out of here. It’ll be light in a couple of hours. The last thing we need is for someone to spot us.”
Frightened, the other monsters begin to hurry. They plunge a needle into her shoulder, injecting her with some type of sedative. Her eyes close and her breathing slows. She’s asleep.
After that, they dress her in a tiny bikini made of soft yellow cloth, then line her up with the other slaves, herding her to make space in the aisle for more merchandise, like she’s just some product.
I struggle against my captors, fighting to free myself. But it’s no use. They’re bigger and stronger, armed with weapons. I might as well be trying to turn into the hulk. But my determination doesn’t go unnoticed.
“What do we do with him?” Danzin asks, looking in my direction.
The leader pauses as he examines me, his mouth quirking to the side. “Not bad. Young. Tall. Good frame. Might last a week in one of the mines under the right conditions—maybe.”
“You want us to hang him up with the rest of them?” Danzin asks.
“No,” the leader says. He looks over at the two monsters who are waiting at the mouth of the ramp, the obese giant who punched me in the gut, and the shorter skinnier troll who yanked Rachel away. “Give him to Grim and Gromm.”
“You got it,” Danzin says. He hefts me to my feet and gives me a shake.
I grimace as I’m dragged through the aisle, able to steal one last glimpse of Rachel before I’m thrust into the arms of the giant.
“What’s this?” the little one asks.
“Payment,” the leader answers.
“Fuck that,” he says. “We had a deal. Women this time.”
“You take what the fuck I give you, Grim,” the leader says, pulling back his duster to reveal the sidearm at his belt. “Do we have a problem?”
Grim snarls. He doesn’t like the deal. But he’s got no choice either. Reluctantly, he looks me over with a scrutinizing eye, thinking. “Not really my speed,” he says.
“Gromm don’t like,” the giant adds. “He not enough. Too scrawny.”
His smaller, thinner brother, Grim, twists a stare at him. “Well maybe if you didn’t eat so fucking much we could make the food last longer than a couple of days. You ever think of that, you fat-ass!”
Gromm bows his head, ashamed.
After a while, Grim finally nods his consent. “Alright, we’ll take him. But next time, I want double. And tell this new benefactor of yours that the next time he needs our help, he’s gonna have to pay us extra. Women aren’t so easy to find these days, not since the Purifiers have been venturing deeper out here.”
“Let me worry about Atia and her soldiers,” the leader assures him. “You just keep bringing me the flesh.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Grim says.
The leader shoots him a stare—a warning look—then turns back into the ship, where he begins to stroll up the ramp, Danzin trailing faithfully at his heels.
Behind them, the ramp begins to lift and the craft’s engines begin to roar, the wings’ thrusters burning a deep green as the craft begins to rise.
Wind and dust swirl around me as it lifts off the ground, steering itself toward the horizon where its lights quickly sink into the darkness.
In that terrible moment, I manage to slip from Gromm’s grip, chasing after the craft in a last-ditch effort, screaming with everything I have for it to stop. “Rachel!”
But it’s no use.
The ship eventually disappears into the night, and I fall to my knees, listening as the sound of thrusters dissipate in the wind.
Defeated, I stare at the empty ground, shocked by what’s just happened. This is a nightmare. It has to be. There’s no other explanation. The explosion of the particle collider must’ve knocked me out. And the only reason I can’t wake up is because I’m in a coma.
But all of that is quickly erased, as I feel the jagged heel of a boot digging into my back.
“Get up,” Gromm orders, punctuating the order with another kick.
I glance over my shoulder, snarling at him in anger.
Grim laughs from a safe distance. “He’s a fighter, that one.”
“Gromm likes fighters,” the giant says, cracking his knuckles.
The smaller brother sighs. “Alright, then. Have a turn with him.”
“Really?” Gromm asks excitedly.
Grim shrugs. “Eh, why not? You’ve been a good boy this week,” he says, rubbing his brother’s head playfully.
Gromm blushes.
“But don’t get it too messy this time,” he warns with a long rusty knife. “Took me hours to clean up the last one.”
A bright smile spreads across the giant’s face, and he begins to walk toward me.
I feel the terror in my chest blossom with every step. I jump up to run, anxious to get away, but he hits me in the back with what feels like a bolt of lightning. I fall to the ground, face covered in dirt.
“Gromm don’t like to run,” the giant says, holstering what looks to be a stun gun on his belt. He grabs me by the collar, and I’m jerked to my feet. I can barely stand. I blink as I stumble forward. I have to get out of this, I have to save myself.
He tosses me like a bag of dirty clothes, sending me feet into the air. I crash against the ground, my body rolling and rolling till it finally comes to a stop. I hear him stomping toward me again.
Now!
I jump to my feet and kick him in the nuts. It surprises him. And as big as he is, he falls to the ground, moaning in pain.
“Mother fucker,” I say, kicking dirt into his face.
I reach for the rusty machete on his belt, then use it to cut the rope around my wrists.
“Come back to Gromm,” he pleads in a low moan.
I feel a hand reach for my ankle, and it pulls me back.
It’s then that I meet the true strength of my enemy. He’s powerful, more than I thought, and I feel as if I'm locked in a bear trap.
Desperate, I reach for the machete on the ground and swing it with all my might, slashing it just below his head.
Green blood, like antifreeze, fizzes out from his throat, bubbling and gushing, spreading out across his blood-stained shirt. I stare at the sight in horror.
Gromm reaches for his throat, gurgling as he fights for his last few breaths. His face pales to a lifeless blue, and his eyes roll back in his head, his body toppling to the ground with a thud.
“What the fuck!”
I turn to see Grim standing by a make-shift table, sharpening a butcher’s knife with a steel rod. He tosses the tools aside and fumbles for his rifle.
Oh shit!
I duck as a blast of energy whizzes past me. His anger has made him reckless. Looking for cover, I find what looks to be a four-wheeler a couple of yards away and race for it. He takes another shot. But this time it hits the vehicle, causing it to explode. Sparks fly through the air, as the engine is undone, and I’m momentarily blinded by the effect. Shielding my eyes, I scramble for more cover. But there is none.
I trip over a crack in the ground, hitting the side of my head on a rock. The pain is excruciating, worse than anything I’ve ever felt before, and I’m suddenly left helpless.
“You killed my brother…” Grim says, stalking toward me, green tears running down his ugly face, a stream of mucus dangling from his crooked nose. “…and now, you’re gonna pay.”
I look up to find the barrel of the gun in my face. The chamber is pulsating with a building charge, and I know that I’m only seconds away from getting my head blown off.
“The only place you’re going is on my plate, you little cock sucker!”
I stare up at my executioner, hard-faced, able to perform one last act of defiance before I’m killed.
“Fuck you,” I say, flipping him off.
The act confuses him, and it wins me a few more seconds of life.
His finger is already pulling back the trigger of his rifle, when he’s suddenly hit with a shock of blue lightning. It’s subtle at first, but after a while, it creeps onto his arm, then his shoulder, finally encompassing his entire body in a ball of light, that throws him into a wild spasm.
