Page 34 of My Alien Sunshine

“I’m alright, little one. I have a tough head. See?” I knock on my forehead, smiling when Ellen lets out a snotty giggle.

“I’m not little,” she retorts, quickly shifting from giggling to pouting as she realizes I just called her ‘little’. “You said I was a big girl. I am a big girl. And I want Mama.”

“My apologies, big girl,” I tease, then a sigh escapes me. “I want your mama too. But we’ll have to be patient.”

She pouts again. “Why?”

That catches me off guard. “Uhm, why? Why what?”

“Why do we have to be patient?”

I strain my brain, coming up with an appropriate answer a four-year-old would understand is hard. The problem is, I have no idea what a four-year-old understands. “Because we’re on Drayth’s ship right now and we can’t get off.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re in space and people can’t breathe in space.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no oxygen.”

“What’s oxygen?”

I rub my throbbing forehead. “It’s what we breathe. Look,” I interrupt her before she can ask why we need to breathe or another surprisingly difficult question. “Right now, we’re locked in this room. We need to rest and gather our strength so that when the time comes, we can run.”

Ellen purses her lips as she mulls it over, then nods. “Alright. Will you sleep those bad men like you slept Aunt Mu? They were mean. They…” She sniffles, more tears welling in her eyes. “They took Zuri. They broke her.” She starts crying again, loud sobs reverberating throughout her entire body.

I just hold her, not knowing what to say. Rage simmers beneath my skin, needing an outlet. Who the fuck steals a toy from a child and then destroys it in front of their eyes?!

I’m killing these assholes, I decide. Personally. Every single one of them. Not just Drayth, but also those evil bastards who think it’s okay to blow hot steam at a child and rip a toy out of their hands. Such depraved creatures don’t deserve to live.

The door opening drags me out of my murderous thoughts. I jump to my feet, holding Ellen in my arms. Whatever happens, I’m not letting go of her.

Four guards enter, aiming stunners at me. I struggle to suppress the nasty smirk trying to sneak out. It looks like they’re being cautious around me now, rightfully so.

Drayth strides in after his men, wearing a cocky grin. “You’re up. Good. My guards won’t have to drag your unconscious body along. It doesn’t paint a good picture of the merchandise, if you know what I mean. I figure you’ll net a good price at the auction. I already have a buyer for the child and the rest of my cargo should sell well, too.”

“What cargo?”

“None of your fucking business. Follow,” Drayth orders, marching out of the room.

With Ellen safely tucked into my arms, I follow, the back of my neck itching from the guns pointing at me. “Stay quiet,” I whisper into her ear. “And don’t look.” I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I remember the messed up shit I was forced to witness as a child during the slum wars. I don’t want Ellen to have the same memories.

She buries her face into the folds of my shirt, clinging to me like one of those tiny tentacled beasts from Qara stuck fast to their mothers.

“My other cargo,” Drayth says as we walk through the ship’s corridors, more guards joining us, “is already stored in the Arcade’s cargo holds. High-quality cargo,” he boasts, clearly unable to help himself. “Weapons-grade crylonite, the most advanced guidance systems, those new shield generators the UGC has developed… Only the best for my customers.”

I’m not exactly happy he’s selling high-grade weapons tech, but at least he doesn’t have more slaves stashed somewhere.

We arrive at an external airlock. Uniformed guards open it from outside, meticulously scanning everyone before letting us through. Drayth’s goons are forced to leave the stunners behind and only continue with their shock sticks. One of them glares at me, waving what I assume is the remote control for my collar in front of my face. “Don’t do anything stupid, hybrid.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I spit back at him, imagining how I’m going to kill him.

One look at the new guards tells me they are professionals, not a bunch of slobbering idiots like the trash Drayth hires. They’ll be difficult opponents when we are escaping this place. I can only hope there aren’t too many of them.

That hope dies as we walk through a wide doorway and enter into a huge open space. One could fit a small city in here. Instead of a city, though, there’s a market. Stalls lining the walls sell everything from drugs to banned chemical compounds, rare pets and weapons. Shitloads of weapons. Enough to arm an entire fleet.

My fingers itch to grab one as we pass by one of the many stalls but I don’t even try. I might not be a genius but even I know I’d be out cold before I manage to raise the weapon, let alone fire it. Doesn’t mean I can’t dream about it, though.

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