Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Flor is there to pat me on the arm again. “That’s my husband, I’rec. He’s an alien but I promise he means you no harm. Just trust me, okay? I’ll explain it all once everyone is safe by the fire.”
An alien…?
Numb, I sit on the boulder she indicates and something warm is tossed around my shoulders that feels like a fur coat. Shivering, I search it for armholes and find none, so I just wrap it around my body and try to make sense of what’s going on around me as I huddle near the fire. Others are being led towards our fire and I can hear someone crying. I desperately wish I had glasses or contacts with me because this is triggering all my old fears about going blind. That my vision—bad since early childhood—will continue to get worse until I can see nothing at all. I touch my face furtively to make sure that I’m not wearing my glasses, and I’m relieved that I’m not. That’s something, at least.
My teeth chatter and I hunch over, trying to make myself small. Why are there aliens here?
Where is here?
“You,” the blue man says, pointing in my direction. His accent is thick and he sounds irritated, which just makes me quiver even harder. “You are still cold?” When I manage a nod, he makes an impatient sound. “You and the female next to you, huddle together. Share warmth.”
“Right,” says the woman next to me. “I should have known that.” She opens up her blanket and I move in next to her, tucking mine around our legs. She’s got blonde hair and seems to be about my age. “I’m Sabrina. Do you know what’s going on?”
I shake my head. I genuinely have no idea. “I don’t have my glasses either.”
“Shit.” Sabrina tucks the blanket closer around us. “I wish this was a bad dream.”
Me, too.
“What’s your name?”
Inwardly I wince, but I offer the one that Flor gave me because I still don’t have anything else. “Vivian?”
“You say it like it’s a question.”
Oh, it is.
Flor returns a few moments later with another blurry-looking person and then announces, “I have more blankets if anyone’s still cold.”
God, I would love another blanket. I could sleep in a pile of them and still be cold. But I don’t want to be a problem. Well, more of a problem than I already am. I bite my lip, waiting to see if there are any left as others get up and grab another blanket, and when they’re all gone, I’m disappointed in myself. Even in this strange, terrible situation, I still can’t find the courage to speak up for myself.
Some things never change.
“Food,” the alien man barks, holding something out to a figure nearby. They take it and then pass it along, and it makes its way to Sabrina. Someone coughs and then Sabrina digs in the bag, getting a handful of what looks like trail mix. She passes the bag to me and I take a small handful, because I need to leave enough for the others, and then turn to pass it to the person on my other side. To my surprise, it looks like a man with green skin. He takes it from me, and when I lean in enough to make out his face, I’m startled to see that he has scales on his face, dotting his brow, and pointed ears that wing up. His eyes have slitted pupils and a yellow sclera, and despite all this weirdness, there’s something handsome and strangely appealing about him.
He studies me as I hand him the bag, and then his expression grows dismissive, his gaze focusing on Sabrina instead. It’s something I’m very familiar with. No one finds me interesting. In this scenario, that’s not a bad thing, though. I mentally dismiss him, too, and return to my seat.
Sabrina’s making little choked noises as she tries to eat. I hesitantly nibble on a bit of what feels like granola, and immediately start coughing. Is it made entirely of pepper? My mouth burns and I cough.
“I think you just pepper sprayed my mouth!” someone cries out.
The bluish alien harrumphs. “Trying to save you,” he mutters, stabbing at the fire. “Eat, don’t eat, I don’t care.”
“I think that’s everyone,” Flor announces when she returns. “Ten women, five men, and three empty pods. Did anyone see where they went?”
The alien gets up and moves to her side, and they talk quietly, ignoring us for a moment. I glance over at Sabrina, and her expression is that of stoic despair.
“Do you remember how you got here?” she asks me. “Or what day it is?”
I shake my head. I keep trying to pull thoughts forward—where I’m from, what this place is, how I know Sabrina or any of the others—and I’m drawing a blank. Your name, I prompt myself. Try to remember your name.