Page 2 of Yasmin and the Yeti (Alien Abduction #25)

CHAPTER TWO

T he days—the periods with the harsh white lighting—passed in an odd mixture of fear and monotony. The thought of her inevitable fate terrified Yasmin, but a person could only spend so much time being afraid before a strange numbness set in.

The days were all the same. The guards came by twice a day to fill her eating bowl, sometimes with a gray, tasteless gruel, and other times with dry pellets.

On the whole, she preferred the pellets.

At some point the lights would dim to the reddish glow and then the cycle would begin all over again.

She discovered a toilet hidden under her bunk.

Using it always embarrassed her, even though Kra’caow courteously turned his back each time.

Once a day, water would stream from the ceiling to a drain on the floor for a brief shower.

The guards frequently chose that time to make their rounds.

If they were there before the water started, she refused to use it.

If they caught her in the act, she was painfully aware that the thin, white shift she wore became nearly transparent when wet.

One guard was especially persistent in his leering, and she was sure he was one of the guards she had seen on the first day.

While the other guards tended to talk to each other, he frequently addressed her directly, asking questions she couldn’t answer or making what she was sure were obscene comments.

She continued to follow Kra’caow’s advice and didn’t respond to anything the guard said, even though it clearly frustrated him.

Kra’caow was the only bright spot in her captivity.

She tried to learn his language, but with little success.

Her throat simply wasn’t capable of making the right sounds.

He, on the other hand, did a much better job of picking up her words.

Not only did he have the advantage of knowing what she was actually saying, but he could also mimic human speech with remarkable accuracy.

She learned he came from a jungle-like planet with a warm climate, that he and his brother shared a mate, and that their wife had been expecting a clutch of eggs.

He had gone to the spaceport to get her a special present for the occasion, and he’d been taken from there.

At least the knowledge that his brother hadn’t been taken seemed to comfort him.

She also learned that he didn’t expect to last long as a fighter. Despite his formidable natural defenses, his bones were thin and easily broken. One break, and it would be over. Dead if he were lucky. A bait slave if he was not.

Sometimes the knowledge of what the future held would be too much, and they would retreat into silence. But even then, his presence made the situation easier to bear.

Then one day the guards came for him.

She thought it was about ten days since she’d been taken, although it was hard to keep track of time when every day was exactly the same and she had no way of recording time.

The guards stopped in front of his cell and barked out an order.

Kra’caow had managed to teach her to recognize a few words in their language and she heard the word obey.

He complied meekly enough, bowing his head and holding out his wrists to be cuffed as the guards entered his cell. But as they left he raised his head and looked at her.

“Goodbye, Yasmin. This is my choice. I hope you find another.”

A horrible premonition washed over her just before he struck, slicing that vicious beak across one guard’s neck.

A fountain of purple blood erupted from the wound and she watched in slow motion horror as the other guard raised a heavy baton and struck Kra’caow.

A sharp crack echoed through the corridor before his limp body collapsed to the ground.

“No,” she whispered, clinging to the bars as tears streamed down her face.

More guards appeared, yelling at each other and gesturing at Kra’caow’s body, until a sharp command had them all snapping to attention. A heavyset male stalked down the corridor, authority in every line of his body.

She recognized the word for captain as the original guard tried to explain.

The captain cut him off, issuing more commands.

One guard carried Kra’caow’s body away, slinging it easily over his shoulder.

Two others cleaned away the blood then disappeared, leaving only the captain and the original guard.

The captain barked an order and the guard extended a trembling arm. The captain took it, then twisted until another crack sounded and the guard collapsed to his knees.

A broken bone for a broken neck , she thought hysterically as the captain gestured the guard away.

He turned to follow him and saw her still clinging to the bars.

The coldest eyes she’d ever seen raked slowly over her body.

He said something she didn’t understand, then gave her a terrifying smile and walked away.

The tears she had been holding back finally came.

She cried not just for Kra’caow, but for herself and the utter hopelessness of her situation.

She was trapped, alone, and marked by the ship’s captain.

If she had the means to end her own life, she realized with a sickening certainty that she would do it.

Two days later, they came for her.

She was curled in a corner of her cell, just as she had been since Kra’caow was killed, locked in solitary misery. When the bars opened, a single guard entered. He didn’t even bother with cuffs. He just grabbed her by the wrist, his grip like a vise, and hauled her to her feet.

She’d thought she was too numb to be afraid, but a wave of terror washed over her as he yanked her out of the cell.

She tried to fight but even though he wasn’t much taller than her, he was far stronger.

He snapped something at her and her stomach roiled as she caught the word for captain.

She was under no illusions about what he intended to do to her.

She desperately tried to escape the guard’s grip but it was useless.

He dragged her out of the cell block and down several corridors before entering a massive cargo hold.

The ceiling soared at least thirty feet above them, crisscrossed with catwalks and loading mechanisms. Massive containers were stacked in neat rows, secured with metal tethers.

Smaller containers were arranged on shelves, held in place by a series of nets.

They were halfway across the hold when the ship lurched violently to one side.

The lights flickered and died as an alarm began to wail, high-pitched and urgent.

The guard tightened his grip on her arm, cursing in his own language, but another lurch tore her out of his grasp.

The entire room began to spin, and she was sent tumbling through the darkness.

She collided with one of the heavy cargo nets and grabbed onto it for dear life as the room continued to spin.

A sudden, jarring impact threw her free from the net.

She hit the far wall hard, knocking the breath out of her.

By the time she could breathe again, she realized that the ship had come to a halt.

She could still hear the distant sound of explosions, and a bitter cold was already seeping into the compartment.

She scrambled to her feet, her body aching from the impact.

The guard who had taken her from her cell lay nearby.

His head was at an awkward angle, and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. He was clearly dead.

Shaking, she stood and looked around. The crash had torn a huge hole in one wall, but twisted metal blocked the opening.

She spotted a smaller door on the far wall and began to work her way towards it.

Several of the ties holding the larger cargo containers had snapped, sending them crashing against the walls, and one of the heavy nets had come loose.

She had to pick her way carefully through the chaos to reach the other side.

The small door was sealed shut, with no obvious handle. She found a square panel on the wall next to it and cautiously poked it with her finger.

Nothing happened.

She tried again, this time pressing her whole hand flat against the panel. It glowed faintly, then with a hiss, the door slid sideways into the wall.

Beyond it was a small chamber with lockers lining one wall and another door at the far end.

She crossed to the exterior door and peered through the small viewport.

All she could see was white. It looked like the ship had crashed near the top of a small hill, with the land sloping down into a valley before rising again towards a high mountain range.

Everything was covered with a thick layer of snow, and she couldn’t see any sign of civilization—no lights, no buildings. Nothing.

Her chances of surviving in this frozen wasteland were slim. But it was better than facing the captain’s cold eyes and the fate they had planned for her.

She started searching through the lockers.

She found a pair of heavy boots that were far too big for her but after she slipped them on, the buckles tightened automatically, gripping her calves.

Most of the other lockers contained tools she didn’t recognize but she found a cloak in the last locker.

The silvery material was surprisingly thin, but it was long, reaching her ankles, and had a deep hood.

She wrapped the cloak around her shoulders, then grabbed a strange metal tool from one of the other lockers.

It spiraled to a point at one end and had a circular handle at the other.

Even though she didn’t know what it was for, it felt heavy and solid in her hand.

She had no illusions about her ability to fight, but at least it could cause some damage.

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the control panel next to the exterior door. For a horrifying moment, nothing happened. Then, with a loud creak, the door shivered in its frame and slid sideways, jamming halfway open but leaving enough space for her to slip through.

She looked out at the frozen landscape and the flakes of snow drifting slowly through the air.

“This is my choice, Kra’caow,” she whispered, and stepped through the opening.