Page 9 of Taken By the Soldier
“The war is nearly over, Judith. Your country is in chaos, the American government has fallen, and we’re stranded here in enemy territory. Apologies, milady, but I don’t have the luxury of courtship and love. We’re all starting over. I need a woman and you’ll have to do. The medical scans I performed on you showed you to be slightly malnourished, but otherwise in excellent health.”
“If you think I’m going to cook, clean, and spread my legs for you, you’re in for one hell of a surprise.” I twist away and back into the far corner beside the storage crates. A heavy silence fills the truck.
Time passes. How much time, I can’t say for sure.
As I slowly digest my interaction with Luka and the events of the past few months, my anger toward him starts to wane, bit by bit as the truck barrels down the highway. Maybe I’m too tired to remain furious at him, or perhaps deep down I can see the pragmatism of the Zaforran’s plan to settle down and claim American women as their wives, even if I don’t agree with their methods.
There are a lot of enemy soldiers stranded on the East Coast, and there are also a vast number of American women who have recently lost their spouse or significant other.
I mentally replay my recent conversation with Commander Luka Dawson, over and over again until reality hits me like a blow to the stomach.
He could’ve left me for dead, but he rescued me and treated my wounds. His people are starting a new life, a simple life with traditional values—the kind of life I’ve always avoided.
Is marriage to a stranger truly my only option?
Luka rummages around in a bag and pulls out a sealed packet that I quickly realize is a ration pack. He leans over and places the pack into my lap, then gives me a fresh canteen of water. His deep blue eyes glimmer with an emotion I can’t place. He looks stern, though his actions are thoughtful.
“Please eat something, princess.”
“I-I’m not hungry,” I say, trying to return the ration pack, even though I’m dizzy with hunger. I don’t want to accept his kindness. My pride won’t allow it, especially when he has such barbaric plans for me.
“I’ve heard your stomach growl over a dozen times already. Eat.Please.” He nods at the ration pack and sinks back into his spot.
I glance down at the ration pack, and the fight in me starts to fade as reason takes over. It’s just food, and I am in dire need of it. How can I succeed in running away if I don’t regain my strength first?
“Okay, thank you,” I whisper, unable to speak in a normal tone, lest the sudden burning in my throat causes my voice to crack with emotion. I tell myself I’m just hungry and exhausted and that his concern means nothing to me. I tear open the package and take a bite of what looks like a granola bar. It’s very dense and chewy and contains nuts and berries, as well as a hint of smoky meat. A weird combination, but it’s the most delicious thing I’ve eaten in ages.
I shoot Luka a look of gratitude after I finish eating. He’s staring at me again, studying me as if I’m a mystery he wishes to solve, and I find myself squirming in place, his intense gaze leaving me flushed and unsteady.
To my relief, he eventually leans against the wall and closes his eyes. Once I’m certain he’s sleeping, I return to my makeshift bed on the blankets.
Curled up in a ball, I try to block the whole world out and pretend I’m lounging in my comfy bed in Baltimore, sleeping in on a Saturday morning.
At some point I drift off, lulled to sleep by the gentle swaying of the truck.
I dream of my parents and Sophia and the happy days of my childhood. Birthday parties, vacations, sleepovers, dance recitals, movie nights, soccer games, and family gatherings all come rushing back in unintelligible fragments, teasing me with glimpses of a time I can never return to.
I awake with a start and have the unbearable sensation that I’m suffocating in a pile of rubble. Once I realize it’s Luka’s arm that is draped across my chest and not a piece of ceiling, I carefully edge out from underneath his presumptive hold.
“Hey.” A woman’s soft voice catches my attention.
“Hello,” I say cautiously as I gaze toward one of my fellow captives.
“I’m Adella,” says the blonde, “and this is my sister, Chloe.” Adella nods at the brunette still snoozing away under a blanket.
I give a small, friendly wave. “I’m Judith. It’s, um, nice to meet you, Adella.”
“Likewise.” Adella spares a wary glance at the unconscious men before returning her focus to me. “So, this is pretty crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.” I sigh, feeling as though I’ve aged a hundred years in the last couple of weeks. “It feels like a dream. Well, a nightmare, really. I meant a nightmare.”
The blonde chuckles. “Oh, come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s supposed to be safe where we’re going. Chloe and I have spent the last month holed up in a basement, eating cold cans of soup and moldy bread, praying a bomb wouldn’t strike our house. This has got to be better.”
My head starts to pound. “They’re forcing us to marry them. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Adella glances at the sleeping Zasforran soldier on her left and blushes. “Actually... I’m starting to think it’s kind of exciting.”
Oh, my God. Poor girl is brainwashed already.
