Page 27
Story: Sold to the Alien Smugglers
I turn my head. There’s a walkway ahead of us – and at the other end of it is a Toad who stares at us with bulbous eyes filled with lust. The beastly thing licks his huge, slobbery lips and rubs his belly with his splayed, webbed fingers.
I don’t know if he wants to fuck us – oreatus.
We approach the walkway. My stomach drops as I peer over the edge – looking down into a sheer drop or twenty or thirty feet, ending in swirling, deep water.
The water down below is clear, and the space it’s contained in stretches wider than an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The water is so deep, I can’t even see the bottom of the reservoir – or make out what gleams and glimmers on the sides of the deep pool.
“Go!”
Spittle follows the guttural command the leader of the Toad splutters out – yanking that chain and dragging us forward onto the walkway.
My stomach lurches. I try not to look down. There are no handrails – and if any one of us captive women fall, she’ll make sure all eleven of the rest of us will be dragged down into the water with her.
And with this heavy chain linking us all? And the weighty cuffs around our wrists?
We won’t be coming back up.
I step forward onto the walkway, testing how supportive it is underfoot. The Toad leading us is in a hurry, though – and he doesn’t have time for more nervousness. With a yank of the chain, he forces us all forward. The impact of our feet makes the walkway clong and shudder. The metal beneath our feet is treacherous and slippery.
Sure, this walkway is wide – built for the quivering girth of the flabby Toads – but I don’t trust any of the weak, trembling women behind me to hold steady on it – myself included.
I glance over my shoulder. Tessa – the girl I’m chained closest to – has sure feet, at least; thank the Gods.
But then, even that small reassurance is robbed from me.
The walkway shudders. I hear a terrified gasp from behind me. Instinct takes over and I tense, bracing myself for what I know is about to come.
Even before I glance over to see what’s happening, I feel the chain at my wrists pull taut. It yanks me backward, along with the other terrified women.
One of them is teetering on the edge of the walkway. If she plummets, the chain attached to her wrist will send the rest of us into the water right behind her.
I dig my heels in, wrapping my hands around the chain. I pull, and one of the girls down the line gasps as she’s caught right on the edge of the walkway – halfway between falling or recovering herself.
I glance over the edge of the walkway and immediately regret the decision as the clear water looms underneath me. For a second, I allow myself to imagine what it’ll be like when those chains pull me over the edge.
How long will it take before I hit the water? How quickly will I sink, with my wrists cuffed and this heavy chain attached to them? I’ll be unable to escape as the water drags me down – that much is sure…
…so, I don’t allow it to happen.
I tighten my grip on the chain andpull. I yank the off-kilter girl toward me, and as soon as they spot me doing so, the other captives do the same.
One consolidated tug on the chain and she’s saved – falling into my arms and panting desperately. She flops – nearly taking me down onto the walkway with her – and it takes all my strength to haul us both back upright.
My heart is pounding. Barely – just barely – I keep us alive.
For now.
The girl in my arms looks up, untangling herself from my tight grip.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I nod wordlessly, and let her rejoin her place in our grim lineup.
Gods – there was a time when I could have done more than give that poor woman just a brief respite. There was a time when I’d had the confidence earned by four successful rescue missions – when I’d thought Ling and I were unstoppable.
That me – the old me – would be plotting how to get out of here even now. I’d be scanning for clues and opportunities – my eyes keen and my attention rapt.
Now, my mind feels blank.Ifeel blank. The old me left, and I feel empty without her. Instead of deliberate intent, instinct and habit takes over. My body reacts to our impossible situation, the panic setting in. I’ve never felt so helpless before.
I don’t know if he wants to fuck us – oreatus.
We approach the walkway. My stomach drops as I peer over the edge – looking down into a sheer drop or twenty or thirty feet, ending in swirling, deep water.
The water down below is clear, and the space it’s contained in stretches wider than an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The water is so deep, I can’t even see the bottom of the reservoir – or make out what gleams and glimmers on the sides of the deep pool.
“Go!”
Spittle follows the guttural command the leader of the Toad splutters out – yanking that chain and dragging us forward onto the walkway.
My stomach lurches. I try not to look down. There are no handrails – and if any one of us captive women fall, she’ll make sure all eleven of the rest of us will be dragged down into the water with her.
And with this heavy chain linking us all? And the weighty cuffs around our wrists?
We won’t be coming back up.
I step forward onto the walkway, testing how supportive it is underfoot. The Toad leading us is in a hurry, though – and he doesn’t have time for more nervousness. With a yank of the chain, he forces us all forward. The impact of our feet makes the walkway clong and shudder. The metal beneath our feet is treacherous and slippery.
Sure, this walkway is wide – built for the quivering girth of the flabby Toads – but I don’t trust any of the weak, trembling women behind me to hold steady on it – myself included.
I glance over my shoulder. Tessa – the girl I’m chained closest to – has sure feet, at least; thank the Gods.
But then, even that small reassurance is robbed from me.
The walkway shudders. I hear a terrified gasp from behind me. Instinct takes over and I tense, bracing myself for what I know is about to come.
Even before I glance over to see what’s happening, I feel the chain at my wrists pull taut. It yanks me backward, along with the other terrified women.
One of them is teetering on the edge of the walkway. If she plummets, the chain attached to her wrist will send the rest of us into the water right behind her.
I dig my heels in, wrapping my hands around the chain. I pull, and one of the girls down the line gasps as she’s caught right on the edge of the walkway – halfway between falling or recovering herself.
I glance over the edge of the walkway and immediately regret the decision as the clear water looms underneath me. For a second, I allow myself to imagine what it’ll be like when those chains pull me over the edge.
How long will it take before I hit the water? How quickly will I sink, with my wrists cuffed and this heavy chain attached to them? I’ll be unable to escape as the water drags me down – that much is sure…
…so, I don’t allow it to happen.
I tighten my grip on the chain andpull. I yank the off-kilter girl toward me, and as soon as they spot me doing so, the other captives do the same.
One consolidated tug on the chain and she’s saved – falling into my arms and panting desperately. She flops – nearly taking me down onto the walkway with her – and it takes all my strength to haul us both back upright.
My heart is pounding. Barely – just barely – I keep us alive.
For now.
The girl in my arms looks up, untangling herself from my tight grip.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I nod wordlessly, and let her rejoin her place in our grim lineup.
Gods – there was a time when I could have done more than give that poor woman just a brief respite. There was a time when I’d had the confidence earned by four successful rescue missions – when I’d thought Ling and I were unstoppable.
That me – the old me – would be plotting how to get out of here even now. I’d be scanning for clues and opportunities – my eyes keen and my attention rapt.
Now, my mind feels blank.Ifeel blank. The old me left, and I feel empty without her. Instead of deliberate intent, instinct and habit takes over. My body reacts to our impossible situation, the panic setting in. I’ve never felt so helpless before.
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