Wrong Alien (TerraMates Book 6) (15 page)

He didn't answer me. He moved to a counter that stood against the wall. My eyes followed his movement and lingered on the counter. Sharp objects covered it. I wasn't interested in learning their purpose.

When the guard started walking toward me, he held a whip.

"You don't have to do this," I said, fear filling my heart. "Please, don't."

"I have orders directly from the Controller." He didn't look me in the eyes. "You brought this on yourself."

I closed my eyes and broke into a cold sweat. He walked around me and moved to the counter, taking his time while choosing from a selection of knives. I wondered if I would be able to hold onto my dignity. What kind of a person was I? Would I scream, or cry, or beg?

He took the knife and carefully cut the back of my dress from neck to waist. He neatly separated the pieces flopping into my dress, exposing my naked back to the cold air.

I heard a clatter on the stone floor. When I turned my head, he had dropped the knife. I gulped. Would I get a reprieve?

I looked at the weapon on the ground and back to the torturer, in the most doe-eyed manner possible. He still refused to look at me as he unfurled the whip.

When I saw the whip uncurl, I realized that he couldn't hold the knife and the whip in the same hand. For a second, I thought he was helping me, or didn't want to hurt me. Those thoughts vanished from my mind when I heard the sharp crack of the whip. The next thing I knew, I felt a sting of leather against the tender skin of my back.

Someone screamed.

On Earth, I had never been physically hurt before. I made sure to avoid all the bad parts of town and rarely saw violence. No one had ever hit me, and I had never been in a fight. Before the whipping, the worst pain I ever had was when I broke my wrist.

The lashing on my back hurt more than breaking a bone.

I don't know how long he waited. Seconds? Minutes? The whip cracked again, on a fresh piece of skin lower on my back. I screamed again. Every stroke hit new nerves I didn't know existed. Tears began rolling down my cheeks, and I wondered how much more I could endure.

After the sixth lash, I sensed a pattern. He was counting to twelve between each swing. I wondered if he had a reason for it, then the whip came again and I couldn't think. I was close to passing out.

The guard put the whip down and left the room.

Without my permission, my mind conjured an image of Jesse, with his handsome smile. I imagined him leaning down to kiss me.
I cried for what might have been and for everything lost. I was going to die at first light or second light or first light of the second sun or whatever they called it here.

The guard never came back. My back hurt less now, but I think I was in shock. I went in and out of consciousness, only waking up when my body twisted in my sleep and hurt me enough to force me awake again.

The night seemed endless. Without anything else to do, I replayed significant moments of my life in my mind. I kept coming back to the ones involving Jesse. It was in the darkest moments that I had the shocking realization I loved Jesse.

I didn't know how such a thing had happened so quickly. I barely knew him. But I also knew I loved him, as surely as I knew my name. I longed for him to come and save me again. But I was afraid I would be his downfall.

They only wanted me for bait. I was waiting in a trap that would result in his death. If I saw him again, that would mean they caught him, and he was about to die.

And secretly, selfishly, I did long to see him again. I needed to get out of here and stay alive so I could see him again and confess my feelings.

I looked around. The knife lay tantalizingly close to me. I thought it might be close enough for me to grab. I stretched out my foot. It almost touched the blade but couldn't quite reach it. I strained against my bonds, feeling rope cut into my wrists, pushing my body and moving my leg as far as it could go.

My toe barely touched the knife. It was a good thing I had taken off my shoes in my cell, even though I had wished for them many times. I had stubbed my toes and cut my feet on the way down into the dungeon.

Unfortunately, the knife moved in the wrong direction. It spun slightly and went further away from my body. I let out a small moan. The sound of my voice made me sick to my stomach. If I couldn't find inner strength, I was going to die.

I would do whatever I needed to do. I took a deep breath and reached as far as I could, farther than before, feeling the rope bite into my wrists and my muscles stretch to their limit. My toe touched it, and I carefully pulled it back towards me within reach.

I wanted to jump up for joy, but ropes still bound me, and I wasn't free yet. I reached for the knife and tried to put it between my toes. It took many tries, but I finally picked it up. Now that I was an expert in foot-knife movement, I promptly dropped the blade when I tried to move it to my hand. I had to make three more attempts before I could lift my foot my foot high enough and simultaneously grab the handle with my fingers.

I held onto the knife carefully and began sawing at the rope. Eventually, I cut through the last strand, and one hand was free. In a moment, I had the other hand loose, and I headed for the door.

It was locked, of course.

"You won't get out that way," a voice croaked from a dark corner of the room.

I froze. The knife was still in my hand.

"Who's there?"

"Just Jemima. I'm nobody, really."

I grabbed a torch from its sconce on the wall and slowly approached the sound. When I got close enough to see who had spoken, I gasped.

The elderly woman was so skinny her face looked like a skull and her eyes bulged out. How had she survived here by herself? There was a spark of light in her dark green eyes.

"Jemima? I'm glad to meet you, but I have to get out of here. Can you help me?"

She nodded with a cunning smile.

"How can I escape if I can't get out the door?"

"I shan't tell you," she said. "The man went down to the river to bathe and said 'Help me! Help me!' to the pretty maid," she sang.

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"Will you give me your first-born child?" she cackled.

I was prepared to do
almost
whatever it took. Was she crazy?

"It was only a jest. I will tell you what I know. I will never escape from here, but there is a chance for you."

I waited patiently. It seemed unlikely Jemima would have any information that was helpful to me, but I had no other options.

"There is a door which leads into the adjoining cell from earlier times. Once, these cells were filled traitors, those who participated in the destruction of our world. The ones who had set off the bombs. Back in the day, I hear they were piled fifty to a cell. The door let air flow into this room so the prisoners wouldn't suffocate. The other cell has a window. Can you see it?"

She looked up at me and pointed to the window. I nodded.

"The current guards have forgotten what this place once was. You can reach the door, but I cannot. At the bottom is a small mouse hole. If you reach into the hole, you will find a key from long ago."

If I had to reach into a dark mouse hole and get a few bites, so be it.

"After you go through the door, open the window and pull yourself out. I'm not sure what lies beyond. From there, your fate is in your hands."

"Thank you." I reached up to touch the woman's shaky hand for a moment. "If there's anything I can do to get you out, I will help you."

She nodded, but I knew she didn't believe me. My wrists hurt badly from where the rope had cut through my skin. My head throbbed, and I hoped I had enough strength remaining.

I didn't hesitate at the mouse hole, shoving my hand in and moving my fingers around. I groped around for a moment and found a metal skeleton key, but no mice, thank goodness. It was a small blessing in the midst of chaos and horror.

I put the key in the lock and turned.

Nothing happened. It was stuck. Just my luck.

I turned it again. This time, I heard the soft screech of metal and the lock clicked. I pulled on the door handle, and it slowly moved as if no one had opened it for a long time. I grabbed a torch and brought it with me.

On the other side, I ran for the window and wrenched it open. I need both hands to pull me up, so I had to leave my only light source. Even though every part of my body was in pain, the adrenaline and fear gave me the strength to lift my body up and out of the window.

Once I was outside, I stayed in the shadow of the buildings and ran. I found a road. I didn't know where it went, but at least it wasn't here. If I got away, I planned to leave this planet and never come back.

Jesse was welcome to come with me, but I had no desire to live in a place where the authorities threw people into dungeons. I understood that I broke the law, but what they did to me was inhumane.

Following the road led me to sparse trees which grew into a forest. Walking became a burden. All I could think about was moving one foot after the other.

I was growing more tired with every step, but I wouldn't give in until I was free.

The night began to lighten in the morning sky. First Sun was about to break. I felt a strange feeling. Was someone watching me?

Suddenly a man jumped up from behind me and grabbed me from the rear, trapping my arms. His hand covered my mouth.

I couldn't believe they caught me again so quickly.

JESSE

Porter lightly landed the ship so lightly that I hardly noticed. He touched it down in a forest behind the Bureau of Purity headquarters. He shut off the engine but left the cloak running.

The Underground rarely used hovercraft on Yordbrook, but when we did it was important to engage the cloaking device and keep the ship hidden. We didn't need the general public to panic because they thought aliens were invading them. It would take a big leap in logic to guess their people were flying an illegal vessel.

I took a quick look at myself in the mirror. I had changed into more practical clothes from the storage compartment. I was wearing a black T-shirt and black pants. They felt comfortable. I noticed I had a black eye and cut lip from the fights.

I laughed to myself. I looked rakish, like a bandit. It was a far cry from the responsible farmer I had been a short while ago. My current appearance was a closer match to how I thought about myself.

I had wanted to please my father, of course, and have security. A farm was the only way to guarantee freedom on Yordbrook. But the inheritance had never been about what I wanted, but what my father needed to make himself feel safe.

Porter was waiting for me in another room. "Are you ready to go?" I asked. I don't think Annalee has a lot of time to waste.

"Don't worry about her, Jesse. The Bureau treats its prisoners well. She'll have clean sheets and a private cell for her last night on the planet."

"I suppose you're right," I said, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was in trouble. It was probably paranoia. "Better safe than sorry. Let's get moving."

Porter nodded and opened the door.

We sneaked through the woods until we reached the edge of the forest. Crouching down, we surveyed the compound. Porter pointed to a building that looked the same as all the other buildings.

"There," he said. "That's the wing where they keep the prisoners."

We needed to get this right. There wouldn't be any second chances tonight. By the moonlight, I estimated the night was half over. Annalee would die at the first light of Second Sun.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Porter said.

"You mean,
I'll
be back as soon as
I
can. She's my wife."

"No, I don't. You're not going in there, Jesse. They want to catch
you
. That's why they took Annalee."

"Aren't you're one of the leaders, too? They would be happy to get either one of us."

"They won't be looking for me. Especially since they think I'm still a Bureau employee." He held up a purple stone which identified him as a Bureau worker.

The Bureau controlled the distribution of the stones. They were impossible to counterfeit. The only way to get one was to be a Bureau employee. They were a practical identifier of who was with the Bureau and who wasn't. If anyone captured them, they were instructed to destroy their stone.

Of course, Porter kept his stone when he left the Bureau and went into hiding. He started changing into a dark navy Bureau of Purity outfit. His clothes and stone would probably be enough to get him deep into the compound.

It wouldn't help if anyone examined the stone in detail and realized that it had been missing for years. But if it worked, I suspected he would be able to go places I wouldn't be able to reach by breaking in.

I frowned at him. "This wasn't the plan."

"I don't know what your plan was. It always was the plan for me," he said, shrugging. "I need to go, Jesse. Annalee doesn't have much time."

He turned and began to walk away.

"Porter. Be careful."

He nodded once before he disappeared, leaving me to wait alone in the dark.

"What do you mean, she wasn't there?" I asked, feeling an empty sensation in my gut.

"I got in without any problems and made it all the way to her cell. The guard in the hallway said she had been taken down to the cellar."

"The cellar?" A horrified expression appeared on my face.

"That's where they torture people."

"I know! You don't need to say it!"

"I went down and found the guard who was assigned to 'educate' her and talked to him."

"Did you 'educate' him back?"

"No, I needed the information, Jesse. He was in his room already. Apparently he thought she was going to pass out, so he gave her a break. He planned to return soon so I asked if I could talk to her. When I got there, she was gone."

"Where could she go? Did the guard know she escaped?"