Alien Rescue

by Marie Dry

  In a bleak future, where government systems are breaking down, and poverty and violence reign, Rose wakes from a horrific ordeal, only to find that aliens have taken over Earth while she was unconscious. One of them claimed her as his breeder, and now she has to resist her attraction to the alien who buys her frilly dresses and calls her his breeder. She also needs to find a way to rescue her colleagues and country from the Zyrgin invaders.

  This time in her nightmare, a strange-looking being haunted her dream, as well. The strange man-being was dressed in a metal uniform and had a green-and-copper face. He kept her trapped inside a large cube made from the same silver as his uniform. She screamed and screamed, but no one knew she was trapped. She was back in the suitcase, unable to move, and her kidnappers ignored her screams.

  “Quiet, my breeder, you are all right,” the silver man-being said, in a voice like electrified lightning. His shiny uniform made her eyes water. She gratefully gave in to the darkness.

  Someone held a cup to her lips. She was thirsty, but she wanted to sleep. “G’way, man-being, wanna sleep.”

  “Drink, my breeder.” She remembered that voice—shouldn’t trust him—cool water on her tongue, and she drank greedily. Something about his words was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what nagged at her.

  She fell asleep mid-swallow.

  Rose woke, and if she were stronger, she’d have jumped from the bed and run to a water source. Spiders tugged at her hair. She tried to lift her arm to brush them off, but she was too weak. Rose moaned; she hated spiders and creepy things with too many legs. They always found their way into the hole whenever she tried to prove herself.

  “Calm, my breeder.” The voice was deep and belonged to the silver-and-gold devil. “I killed the spiders. They cannot harm you,” he said, sounding resigned, as if he’d told her that many times before.

  “Nice man-being,” she murmured and patted him, then fell asleep.

  The next time she woke, the metal-clad stranger was doing something to her hair. Normally she didn’t like anyone messing with her hair, but it was strangely soothing. She fell asleep before she even finished the thought.

  She woke, and she didn’t know how, but she knew she’d woken many times before in this silver place. But now her brain was clear. Something with lots of big, white teeth, bigger and sharper than human teeth, stared down at her. “Crocodiles are extinct.”

  “That is a very interesting fact, my breeder. You are a clever female.” He patted her head, and if she didn’t feel so weak, she’d have bitten his hand.

  “Are you going to eat me? I don’t think I’ll make good crocodile food. You want to look for someone with more meat on their bones.” Never had she been so grateful for being on the scrawny side.

  A loud sigh. “I am not a crocodile. I will not eat you, my breeder. Drink this water—no, don’t spit it out.”

  She woke again and the crocodile held her upright. Rose stared up at him. He wasn’t even remotely like the picture of the crocodile she once saw. He was tall and muscled, really well built, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. Even the bone structure in his face was good. Strong and masculine, his recessed ears somehow fit him, and the ridge on his head gave him a dangerous appearance without making him look creepy. She squinted and it hurt to do even that.

  His face contorted, became mixed up in her nightmares where he wasn’t humanlike. “Not a crocodile, a Komodo dragon.” That was what he was. She was sure of it. Somehow they didn’t become extinct like they said on that program on the TC. They’d survived in isolation on that island and had evolved into man-beings. She weakly patted the claw holding a silver cup. In dreams you could pat a dragon. “Nice dragon.” Darkness took her again.

  When she woke again, she tried to rub her itching nose and stared in horror at her arms. Her hands were gone. Eaten up by the dragon. She burst into loud tears.

  “Why are you crying?” the upright-walking Komodo dragon asked her as if it was nothing that he’d eaten her hands.

  “You ate my hands. I want to touch my nose, because it itches, and you ate my hands, you horrible Komodo dragon, and now I can’t touch anything.”

  She thought she heard him sigh. “I have told you, I am not a dragon and I didn’t eat your hands. If I wanted to eat you, I’d go for the softer bits.”

  Alien Rescue

  Marie Dry

  Copyright © 2020 by Marie Dry

  Cover Design by Dar Albert

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author and publisher, except in the case of brief quotations used in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to Cari Hislop. Thank you for the emails we shared and your patience in answering my questions, Cari. It made all the difference.

  Chapter One

  According to the Director, all agents should prove their loyalty and commitment to the company by surviving two weeks in the hole.

  Rose was the only agent who didn’t have to be dragged to the shallow hollow in the cement floor, kicking and screaming, because if she allowed the Director to bury her, again, her father and her brother might accept her back into the family—be proud of her.

  Or maybe she deluded herself? Maybe nothing she did could make her father proud of her. For the last eight months she’d tried, she’d tried so hard to make it through the two weeks without becoming unconscious, until she barely knew what was happening in the outside world. Naked, Rose stood on the grey cement steps that led to the basement of the FBI building, so focused on what she had to do, she barely felt the cold seeping into her bare feet. She clenched and unclenched her hands. Then stretched out a hand toward the handle of the rusted door with the patches of grey where the paint flaked off. This time she would do it. It might kill her in the process, but this time she would definitely do it.

  Outside the building it was cold, a miserable dribble leaking out of the grey, overcast clouds for days now. Inside it might be dry, but the bitter cold had seeped into the cracked cement the building was made of until it was winter inside. Rose banished all thoughts of cold and discomfort. She couldn’t allow her vulnerable, naked body to react to the cold. Parnell would fail her for showing any sign of discomfort and then put her in that shallow grave in the basement of the building anyway.

  “Come, Rose, we are ready for you.” The Director raised his voice to be heard through the door and over the air conditioning in the basement, that ran winter and summer to protect the secret labs. They had one of the few buildings in the city with working air conditioning. He had a deep, resonant voice, a face that inspired confidence, a square jaw, and a direct, open gaze. A long time ago, around the third time she’d gone into the hole, Parnell had told her that when she’d proved herself, he’d show her inside the secret lab in the basement. She’d be a part of his most trusted group. But more important, her family would be proud of her for rising in the ranks.

  Rose deliberately relaxed her hands. If Mr. Parnell saw any sign of tension from her, he’d declare this time a fail, and it would be two weeks before he gave her the chance to prove herself again. He’d only moved her up the queue because she’d pestered him to give her the chance. Her fellow trainee, Susan, had eagerly given up her place. Rose suppressed a sigh. If only she was good at something. Anything. But she couldn’t shoot very well, her hand-to-hand combat was average, even with all the work she put in. She couldn’t afford to fail at this, too.

  Breath
ing deep, she gathered her courage and pushed open the door leading from the stairwell to the basement. Motor oil, fumes from the few cars parked there, and dirt and stone hit her nostrils. She smelled cigarette smoke near the support column where Abel smoked every day. A few other unpleasant smells she couldn’t identify assaulted her nose.

  Her body might see and smell and hear what was in the basement, but her mind remembered the dark, the narrow space where she couldn’t even turn over, the smell of her own faeces and that of the others who’d been in the hole before her. The skittering of little things with too many legs. Shivers shook her insides.

  Her feet and calves threatened to cramp from the chill invading her through the rough cement floor under her bare feet. She loathed the grey basement. The walls, the cement floor, the large doors leading to the secret lab, every inch of drab space had witnessed her previous failures. Even her brown skin was edging toward grey from stress and cold. The edges of her vision became fuzzy and she took a long, deep breath to avoid fainting from sheer panic.

  Next to being shut into that narrow, rectangular hole, that reminded her of a shallow grave, the worst aspect was having to do the test naked. Walking into the basement without clothes enforced how vulnerable she was. Even knowing that was part of the test, she struggled with it every time. Hated feeling this vulnerable.

  The Director stood talking to Abel, the scientist in charge of the secret lab. Morgan, her nemesis in the department, stood with them, that everpresent smirk on his face. A tall man with brown hair and eyes, he’d joined four years after her, but he was already in Mr. Parnell’s inner circle. She didn’t know why, but Morgan had taken a strong dislike to her from the start.

  The dislike was mutual. She couldn’t understand how Mr. Parnell could allow him into his inner circle after such a short period, while she still had to prove herself. Having to stand there naked, while they looked at her, knowing Morgan didn’t have to go through this, didn’t ever have to be naked and vulnerable, was a bitter pill to swallow. She’d never been around when the others were tested. Just hearing them scream when they were collected to be put into the proving hole was bad enough. But now, for the first time, she wondered if the others had to be naked, too.

  The cold made her nipples peak and the men’s gazes dropped to her chest and she had to concentrate hard not to flinch and cover herself. Blood rushed to her face. Humiliation a bitter pill on her tongue. She’d give ten years of her life for a blanket. Mr. Parnell was like a father to her; it always felt wrong for him to see her like this.

  She ignored the sly glances from the scientists with difficulty. She’d always been comfortable about her shape, but her body was private and she preferred to keep it that way. Whenever she tried to prove herself worthy, they’d all come out of the lab that spanned most of the basement area. Pretending to work on their TCs, some of them openly leered at her the moment Parnell’s back was to them. When she’d complained to Parnell, he’d said that was part of the test. Rose hid a sneer—drooling idiots. She focused her attention on Mr. Parnell.

  He walked over to her, his grey suit perfectly tailored, his stern face difficult to read. She’d heard Maeve mutter once that his suits were as grey as his morals. There were whispers that he used the budget to fill his closet with tailored suits. Rose didn’t agree with Maeve. Shouldn’t their Director look professional when he represented them? She’d been shocked that Maeve could say something like that. Parnell was at the head of one of the most important organizations in the country. Some speculated that he had the ear of the new president. And more important, he cared for the people who worked for him.

  He came to stand in front of her. Again, she had to suppress the need to cover herself. Mr. Parnell didn’t enjoy putting her in the testing box. He was trying to make her stronger, she reminded herself. Preparing her for the task ahead of her. He’d hinted that a big case waited for her to solve, the moment she succeeded in proving herself. Rose lifted her chin. She won’t falter now.

  “Are you ready?” he asked. It must be her nerves that made her think there was sick excitement in his voice; he’d told her that it pained him to have to make her prove herself.

  “Yes, sir, I won’t let you down.” Please don’t let me fail. Please, please, she prayed silently. Every time he put her in that hole, the fear got worse. She had constant nightmares about being trapped inside that hollow, cement grave. And sometimes she dreamed of mean-looking men stuffing her into a small suitcase. She’d taken to sleeping on the roof because she couldn’t stand being cooped inside a room anymore. At least she’d sounded firm. None of the sick fear that lived in her gut bled into her words. She’d emptied her bladder in case the panic overwhelmed her again. It was inevitable, after spending days in the hole, but at least she wouldn’t disgrace herself when they put her in, like she did the first time.

  Parnell put his arm around her shoulder, and even though his heat was comforting, for the first time she had this violent urge to get away from his touch. “If you succeed, I will give you the superman crack case,” he said.

  For a moment she forgot that she was naked, that they were about to bury her in a shallow hole. She sucked in a breath. Her own case, and such a big case. She’d thought he’d give her one of the minor syndicates to investigate. But the superman crack case? That was huge. She straightened her spine. “Thank you, Director, I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t,” he said and the coming ordeal must be messing with her mind, because this time she heard pure malice in the Director’s voice.

  The breath, she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, burst from her with a soft whoosh. Rose could feel herself pale, but Mr. Parnell didn’t seem to notice. It had to be her imagination. He had no ill will toward her. Giving her such a big case showed how much faith he had in her. It could make her career, move her up the ranks at a much faster pace.

  Morgan opened the steel lid of the testing box and she barely contained her flinch. All thoughts of a career-making case fled. He never showed any emotion toward her when Mr. Parnell was present, but she always had this feeling that he enjoyed her humiliation and misery during these tests.

  The steel cover scraped over the cement with a grating noise and she shuddered, that sound scraping over her nerves. Her legs threatened to collapse beneath her. The shallow, rectangular hole that was revealed looked cold and sinister to her panicked gaze. It stank of urine and other unpleasant things she didn’t want to think about. Rose barely managed to walk closer, to lie down in the cold, unforgiving concrete hollow. To ignore Morgan’s smirk. Ignoring the rough cement that scraped cold against her back, she flattened herself, pointing her feet sideways. You can do this, Rose. Stay calm, you can do this, she chanted in her head. The last time she’d tried to prove herself, the steel door had scraped her skin raw. Her breathing became harsh, the air too thick to get into her lungs. Sweat pooled beneath her. There was a ringing in her ears, and she couldn’t hide how she had to pant to breathe. She didn’t want to be there. Why did she have to prove herself? She crushed those traitorous thoughts. Why did she have doubts now, when she’d never had them before?

  Mr. Parnell knelt next to her and cupped her cheek. “This time, you’ll do it, I know it. I have faith in you.”

  Rose nodded. She wanted to smile for him, to show him how much she appreciated him wanting to help her. But it was difficult when she battled the panic that made her want to run screaming from this place.

  Parnell nodded at Morgan.

  The cover slid up, hiding her feet, her knees. She couldn’t breathe and her ears drummed so hard she couldn’t hear the lid scraping closed. The worst thing was knowing the scientists would park their cars on top of her, walk over her, and even if she screamed, no one would hear her. Please let this be the last time. Rivers of sweat poured out of her. It had to be the last time; she didn’t have any more courage left to face this over and over. The lid covered her thighs and her breasts. Morgan leaned down closer, muscles straining
to pull the heavy cement cover over her face, his whisper barely audible. “I’m going to piss on your little grave every day.”

  She ignored him, concentrated on staying calm and flattening herself. At least she didn’t have large breasts, because the lid would’ve scraped her nipples raw.

  The lid slid closed, shutting out the light, leaving her alone in a grave with barely enough air to breath.

  “Gullible―”

  She thought she heard Mr. Parnell and Morgan laugh. But it had to be her imagination. Mr. Parnell would never laugh at her. He wanted her to pass the test as badly as she needed to prove herself. She stared at the last bit of light streaming in, desperate to soak it into her memory. To keep it close for the endless days of darkness ahead.

  Silence, fear, and darkness became her world.

  Chapter Two

  Zanr stroked his ridge, then quickly lowered his hand when he saw the other warriors in the shuttle look at him.

  It had been two weeks since he’d found his breeder in a hole in the basement of the building they’d blown up. She’d looked so small and frail—he couldn’t understand how anyone could put her inside that hole in such a cruel way. She’d been thin, obviously starved, and even though she’d been unconscious, she’d been shivering with fever. He wanted a few hours alone, maybe a few days, with the human who’d put her in there.

  Zanr stepped out of the shuttle, parked in the human capital city of Washington, and walked over to Larz. His friend was dressed as a warrior, but stood separate from the rest of them. Only the need for as many boots as possible, to march, had caused Larz to be included for today’s show of strength.

  Before Zanr had acquired his own female human, he didn’t understand how Larz could give up everything for an evil human like Margaret, the meanest female Zanr had ever seen—he didn’t know how Larz ever turned his back to her.