Page 5 of Anna's Bounty
My breath hitches.Is death really the better option?
No matter what happens, at least I’ll know I did everything I could. I fought with everything I had.
A scuffling sound has my head jerking toward the spider-alien’s cage, and my heart leaps into my throat when I find it empty. A hit of adrenaline lights up my nerve-endings, making my palms clammy and my heart race because…Shit! Where did he gothistime?
I scan the perimeter of his cage before looking up.
Oh.I let out a relieved sigh. There he is. Up in the far corner where he’s built himself a web-nest. A shiver licks down my spine, and I force my eyes away. As much as I can’t stand looking at him, it’s even worse when he moves around so he’s not where I expect him.
Dropping my head into my hands, I bring my thoughts back to more pressing matters. Such as not being sold to an alien brothel.
Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes until I see galaxies exploding behind my lids, I wonder how I’m going to get out of this mess? With an exhale, I drop my trembling hands into my lap. They shake all the time now. Whether it’s from not getting enough calories or nutrients, or just my overworked nervous system, is anyone’s guess. There’s a constant ache in my chest and my throat. Both, I’m fairly certain, are from stress and tension. And from crying.
I never used to be a crier. Sappy chick flicks couldn’t make me misty-eyed, not even when the dog died. I used to joke that it was because I was dead inside. Turns out I had it backward. Now that I truly feel dead inside, I can’t turn the waterworks off. Every frustration, no matter how small, has me dissolving into tears. If I’m not crying, then I’m sleeping. Or I’m staring off into space. Letting my mind wander while I’m trapped in hell. Sometimes I even pray. I’m not sure who I’m praying to—anyone or anything that might listen, I suppose.
Please…whatever happens, help me find the strength to do what I must.
My forehead drops onto the tops of my knees, and my eyes drift closed.
Please… Help me be brave.
4
Anna
The sound of another granola brick landing in the bin startles me from a light sleep.
Cracking one eye open, I can see it poking out of the dish where it landed on top of the last untouched bar. How many days has it been now? My eyes drop to the pile accumulating under the feeder. I count the twelve bars I can see before my gaze drifts away, and I wonder if I’ll ever get out of here? I feel like I’ve been trapped in this cage for months, but it’s probably only been a couple of weeks. Who really knows for sure?
My stomach no longer howls for food. Since all I do is sit around, it’s not like I’m burning many calories. I’ve noticed my hips bones look sharper, and I can see my ribs through my pale skin.
Before all of this, I kept myself in decent enough shape. My job could be stressful and kept me busy, so on my days off, I enjoyed hiking or biking on the numerous trails that weaved in and out of the surrounding hills. I ate a healthy diet and had a gym membership that I actually used on the regular. So, being trapped, watching as my muscles atrophied before my eyes, was its own kind of torture.
My eyes close, and I’m just starting to drift back to sleep when a fierce shudder runs through the ship, followed by the loud groan of twisting metal—a sound I definitely don’t want to hear on a spaceship. In space.
My eyes snap open, and I push myself up so I’m sitting up straighter. Everything has gone quiet. Looking around, neither of my neighbors seem bothered by the sound. Did I imagine it?
Another vibration rumbles through the floor, and I scoot myself until my back is pressed to the bars at the back of my cage. To my left, the slug has started undulating erratically. To my right,the spider alien sits upright in his gently swaying web hammock.
All right, so I didn’t imagine it.
But what caused it?
Just then, a loud explosion rocks the ship, and I clap my hands over my ears as the thunderous sound echoes off the smooth walls surrounding me. All around me, the caged aliens go wild, growling and shouting. I can hear them banging on their bars; some are screaming for someone to let them out. When the cargo area begins to fill with smoke, I expect to feel the vacuum of space suck all the air out of the ship. Thankfully, it doesn’t.
Instead, I watch as a creature that looks like a four-foot-tall capuchin monkey hurries by, alternating running on its back legs and pushing off with its knuckles. Close on its heels is a tall reptilian-looking alien, with reddish-brown scales and a shiny bald head. They are both wearing similar tan tanks and cargo pants. The monkey pauses in front of my cage, while the lizard continues out of sight.
The sounds of voices increase until they become a low roar, and the monkey throws an arm over its head and shouts, “Get those cages open! Hurry! Before they get to the escape pods!” A wide grin spreads across its mouth, showing off a muzzle filled with sharp white teeth. “You want revenge, don’t ya? Don’t let them get away!”
Turning on its heel, it lopes away, and I watch with my mouth hanging open as a wave of colorful aliens races after the talking monkey.
Following behind the group at a more leisurely pace is a blue alien with black hair artfully twisted into a long braid that falls to the small of her back. Her tail, yes, a long tail that tapers to a tip, lazily swishes from side to side with each step. Just like the others, she is also wearing cargo pants and a cream-colored tank. Her head is bent, and she’s focused on a strange device that she uses to scan the cages as she passes them. When she scans the spider’s cage, it flashes red and gives off an angry beep. Same with the slug’s cage. Nothing seems to happen when she scans mine, and I wonder if she has even noticed me.
“Are these the last two?” a gray alien with lighter gray stripes—kind of like a tabby cat’s—asks as he jogs up behind her. He is wearing the same uniform as the others, except his tank molds to his chiseled chest, accentuating his wide shoulders and muscled biceps. He has dark hair, shaved at the sides and back but longer on top and tousled, as if he has a habit of running his hands through the longer strands. And a furry striped tail hovers just off the floor behind him.
“Yes,” the blue alien grins, sliding the device into a pocket on the side of her leg. “These last two have warrants.”
“Two, eh?” I imagine the gray alien is grinning, although his back is to me. “Good fortune is with us, bagging three bounties from a single ship. Make sure they stay put until we get to a station that will take them.” He turns and scans the cargo hold before asking, “That’s all of them, then?”
