Johan grinned as he nudged Karik, the first sign of the cousin she knew since she was taken from them. “Besides, I don’t know if I can get that much explosive again.”
Karik grinned in response but Amara couldn’t find a way to smile even for that.
“You did well, boys.”
Before anyone could respond, there were shouts of alarm far away and Amara didn’t know if they had discovered her escape or if they were still struggling with the fall out. She hoped it was too chaotic for them to even notice her gone. Maybe they wouldn’t think she survived. Nonetheless, she worried about her cousins being caught with her and the terrible things that could happen to them if they were found. She hugged both of them quickly, kissed their cheeks softly and wiped the tears from her eyes. They had given her a chance at life and she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. She would return if she could.
Amara turned and resolutely forced herself to walk into the darkness. Unsteady though her steps were, she continued into the inky blackness that soon enveloped her. Her light only pierced a small portion of the immense nothingness that surrounded her and yet she continued to walk forward. She tried to find the wall on either side but couldn’t, leaving her with the impression of walking in an infinite space. The feeling was frightening and exhilarating in the same breath.
Her thoughts were, for the first time in longer than she could remember, only her own. It added to her impression of emptiness. There was an invisible pull as she recalled the dreams of a dark headed woman, swollen with her child and the three men standing as though waiting for her. Their features were finally discernable. She took that as a good sign. Refusing to question her actions, she painfully continued to walk through the darkness for what seemed to go on forever.
Suddenly, a strong wind kicked up. It swirled around her in a whirlwind, growing more intense the further she pushed through it. As she inched forward, struggling against the tempest, the whistling sounds twisting about her weakening body, she felt water spray on her. Dirt, sand, wind, and rain, pushed and pelted her, taking her breath. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes, crying out in the affliction.
Her thoughts only of forward movement and finding light. She set her image of the lovers she dreamed of as her goal to safety. It was a dream, but now she needed to reach for something to continue. It was foolish but if she were going to die, she wanted a memory of peace and protection when she did. Amara realized that she must be close to an opening to have this type of dramatic atmospheric changes.
Just as she felt the last of her energy depleted, she stumbled on a rock in her path. Crying out to the fantasy men mentally and verbally, she tried to take comfort in her invented lovers as the woman encouraged her in her dreams.
“Save me. I need your help.”
Scrambling to make purchase on something that would break her fall and yet half held up by the winds, she sobbed her last plea into the void. “Please.”
In an instant, everything stopped. There was a moment of total silence. No roar of the wind, sting of the rain, or pelting of the sand. Blessed nothing.
Chapter 3
Amara – Year 2051
Hands were half pulling half picking her up from the ground. Amara was disoriented, but it was obvious she wasn’t in the cave any longer. It wasn’t dark, it was painfully bright. She was in some kind of city, full of noise, so unlike her lush island home. This was somewhere she had never been, surrounded by people she couldn’t identify. Their clothing was in an older style. She was thrown from her stupor by the hands trying to put her on her own legs that no longer worked in their intended capacity. The manhandling caused her to cry out.
People were speaking the universal language, but their accents were so strong she had difficulty understanding them. Their dialect was different from hers, using words she had no concept of and had never heard. Rough hands grabbed her up and again she cried out in pain. The injuries she had sustained and the agony they produced had obviously not disappeared with the island. As she looked furtively around her, she didn’t see anyone or anything that she could say she recognized, but things were not totally unfamiliar. She could still read people though and what she sensed was discontent, some irritation and something else.
They were talking on microphones of some kind, obviously old equipment not used on the island but effective. Her island was isolated and not current on technology but more current than these people were. Within minutes, several men had picked her up and taken her into the elevators despite her cries of pain.
“Please, where am I? Who are you?” When she tried to move, pain streaked through her body. “Argh!”
“Dammit. Stop hurting the immigrant.”
“I didn’t hurt her. I think she’s already hurt.”
The elevator announced the floor. Amara had never seen an elevator that talked because her island didn’t have anything taller than three levels, but she knew they existed. She watched the world via satellite stations. While the island didn’t shun the newest gadgets, it was more difficult to acquire in the isolation in which they lived. You didn’t miss what you didn’t have rang true for most there. The voice took her out of her own head in time to see a shocking sight.
The elevator doors opened to a large room filled with people of all nationalities. Were they all captives? They must not have the universal language mandate everywhere yet because different languages abounded. Her head was immediately overrun with the high emotions that were everywhere. It was possible they were allowed to speak their native tongues here and while she felt the worry, she didn’t understand many of the words accompanying it. All languages were allowed but the Universal Language was created so everyone could speak to each other.
Empaths were able to read people because emotions were their own universal language. Maybe this wasn’t earth, but the environment told her that she most probably was in another time, at least. If that were the case, the prospect was terrifying. She instinctively fought the hands that roughly retained her.
“You are a pretty one, but awfully touchy,” said the man with the harshest hold on her. She recoiled.
This was definitely a different date because there were more women than men in the congested room. Time travel had happened, but she had never seen another who had successfully traveled and returned. She imagined it was the virtual vacations that were just becoming popular. Those on her island loved it. She usually traveled laterally, but not to another time.
She yelped as the men pushed her into the large room. She needed to try a new approach. “Wait. I can walk but I’m injured and must go slowly.”
Again, the response was overshadowed by the accent causing her to find complete understanding impossible. Were these men lacking in intelligence or did they have speech impediments? One captor brought water for her. It had a slightly metallic taste, unlike her mountain water, but she drank it. She was dehydrated. Her muscles had begun to cramp.
Where was she? Were these men also looking to have her for sexual pleasures or dishonorable reasons? Were they going to use her as the government officials had said, to breed? She looked around again and tried to channel the emotional states of those in the room, isolating several women. She felt that they had no fear of harm as much as a restlessness and an eagerness to complete something. They were intact emotionally.
What she did feel was malicious intent in one of the men with her. Almost an evil presence. She was pushed roughly into a secluded room. The chaos outside the small enclosure was preferable to the destruction she felt inside the one guard. The second guard left the room, leaving Amara with the one she feared. Her panic rose. Her chest hurt with her fright, Her breath quickened in answer to her terror. In an attempt to calm herself, she rationalized mentally. You are not being hurt. Her emotional side added yet. That was her greatest fear, to have left her known world for a place that all things were worse.
She was tossed into a chair, her body ached, and the chair scraped her tender, torn skin of her back and thig
hs. The remaining man, guard number one, began to speak to her. She tried hard to understand him, but she missed a portion of his sentences.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand all of your words. Could you repeat what you said?” He raised his hand, and she instinctively protected her face. A punishing twist and a yank of her left breast was the result of her self-protection. When she shifted to relieve the pain, his hand slammed against her right temple. Bile rose with her dizziness and she fought the darkening edges of her peripheral vision, refusing to succumb to the tempting blackness unconsciousness offered.
The vile man leaned over her body as would a mad dog. Hot, putrid breath rolled over her senses as he began mauling her with his mouth, not caring that her face was swollen. Her pain inhibited her self-protection. She shrieked and grunted in her exertion to remove him when suddenly his face was gone. His hands were yanking her meager covering from her body. She grappled to retain her hold, but he was too strong. His hands were grabbing, groping her sex violently, and she couldn’t stop him. Her muted screams and then unrestrained pleas of mercy, finally falling on receptive ears.
“Get off her, you idiot. The director is walking through intake. If he catches you abusing another immigrant after that huge mess with the last one, we won’t have a job, any of us. You heard him, one more incident, and he cleans house.”
The man, who had Amara in his clutches, threw her back as though she were suddenly distasteful. The motion rocked her chair backward. Amara could hear her own scream in her ears. The man who was touching her quickly lifted her back onto her chair, righting the piece of furniture at the same time.
“Shh, bitch.” He threw his hands over her mouth and nose. She widened her eyes in fear. He smiled cruelly, arousal shining in his eyes. She could feel his repulsive thoughts, sensed his lewdness, his vile emotions running rampant. “You better shut up if you know what’s good for you.” His hand slid down to her throat and gave it a few shakes and a hard squeeze.
The door flew open, and the director walked in, bellowing into the room, demanding to know something. The hands fell from her throat and Amara lifted her own hands to cover her head for protection and she balled her body as tight as she could on the hard seat in preparation of the next painful attack. She couldn’t exactly make out what the hollering man wanted. Her fear increased, causing her to understand even less. Another man to do her harm. Would she never be able to live without fearing men? She sensed anger. This new man, obviously in charge, was furious. At whom, she wasn’t sure. She prayed it wasn’t her.
When nothing happened, she reminded herself that her cousins were kind so not all men were cruel. However, these men were not the kind, protective males that surrounded her growing up. There was a violent and sadistic streak in at least one of them, like there had been at the training center. The man who had been yelling stopped. He placed a non-intimidating hand on her. She could feel the lack of threat in his touch. While it wasn’t gentle, it was not cruel. Her curiosity got the better of her and she uncurled. He touched her cheek where guard number two had hit her, turned to the guard who did not harm her and said something about taking her to a medical doctor.
Oh, no, they were not going to do to her what she had escaped from! But she didn’t have the strength to overpower anyone, especially three men intent on doing her evil. He was not giving off any aura that would cause her real fear, but he might not see anything wrong with the surgery. Her physical body wanted to whimper and beg for mercy but her inner self warred with that idea. She fought off the edges of unconsciousness. She could speak for herself though and be respectful. That might get her some kind of reprieve.
“Please, don’t harm me.” Her words were mere labored whispers.
“No, we won’t harm you.” She saw him shake his head and repeat her words. “We want to ease your wounds.”
“You will not harm me? No cutting?”
She didn’t know if they understood about altering. There were enough things that seemed behind modern advancements for most facilities. She needed to find out the where, when, and what.
“No cutting my dear. And this man,” he frowned at the aggressive guard before continuing, “will not touch you again. In fact, he won’t be touching anyone in my facility again.” He turned to the abusive man. “Gather your gear. You have five minutes to leave my sight and this center. Give me your badge.” A few more words were spoken in an angry tone before the harmful man left the room.
“Now, I think we had better call Dr. Remington to come and assess our woman here. I don’t want any further abuse to be laid at our feet. Get her to the medic and call the good doctor. Sterling might even be willing to take her to be assimilated at his compound since she has suffered at one of my guards’ hands. I don’t need the trouble that will ensue if we try to brush this under the rug. Not again.”
Dr. Remington
Dr. Sterling Remington received a message about another female immigrant that was abused at the hands of guards at the intake center. He, Paxton Moore and Zander Rice had married Maya after rescuing her from a similar situation some time ago. She was happy, and so were they, but the emotional scars would always lie just beneath the surface. He wouldn’t allow that to happen to anyone else. Not if he could prevent it.
His Maya had predictive dreams. She said a woman, a hermaphrodite, would soon be in the center, and that he needed to bring her home until her chosen men arrived. Heaven knew what she really meant, but he had learned to believe her premonitions. The two of them had connected through dream-walking and she had evidently been able to walk in this woman’s dreams, but the woman could not access Maya’s in return. When Sterling received the call last night to come and see a woman who was violently abused, in part due to one of their now dismissed guards, he left first thing this morning to drive into the city.
Arriving at the Immigration Intake Center, he was greeted by his friend, the center medic, Matt Johnson. Sterling was on consultation to the center for his psychological and medical expertise and was often called in for the worst cases. Maya was worried for the woman in her dream. Sterling could see why if she were the one abused. He hoped it wasn’t the same person. Unlike his normally cheerful self, Matt met him at the door with a concerned frown.
“Matt, I hope that face doesn’t concern the woman I was called in about.” When things were important, like people’s lives, Sterling felt no humor and did not engage in greeting niceties.
“Unfortunately, it does.” Matt reached out his hand and the men shook briskly. “She appears to be a hermaphrodite, but it’s only a guess. I had little success in a thorough examination because she had been brutalized. I don’t know how much had been suffered at the hands of the guard left alone with her and how much she had endured before arriving. The bottom line is she has been assaulted multiple times. Her ribs are tender, but I don’t think they have punctured anything. Her genitals have not been mutilated, and she says no sexual intercourse has taken place, but they’ve been traumatized. I only know that because she told me, not because I saw anything. I’m sure her injuries will heal but she’s a mess, psychologically. She has to be. Nothing but slave traders commits this type of abuse.”
“Couldn’t she have been in a domestic?” The men began to walk towards the medical wing where patients were kept while healing.
“I don’t think so. When I tried to examine her, she was almost violent in her attempt to protect herself, even though movement is obviously painful. If I even come close to her female anatomy, she becomes a wild woman. If I back off, tend to the wounds on her exposed arms, lower legs and face, she allows it calmly but cautiously. She finally allowed me to bind her ribs, but I couldn’t get a scan. She arrived with nothing but a blanket for clothing. I was thinking of sending her to the Female Center but wanted you to see her and give your opinion.”
“Okay, then let’s meet her.”
As Matt opened the door, he explained the one issue there might be in sending her to the center. “She doesn’t
speak the universal language naturally, but she does do a decent job of it. It’s almost as though she is speaking a dialect of it. I’m sure she understands the words better than she speaks them.”
“Well, it is still a new mandate. Which one is she?” Sterling asked as he surveyed the room full of beds bearing only women and children. He was perusing those who looked as traumatized as described.
“There, the one who is comforting that mother and child. That’s something I forgot to mention. She’s very intuitive with these women. At least that’s what it seems like. Her empathy abounds for the plights of these immigrants, but she needs to sleep often. I imagine it’s because she has been so brutalized.”
“Likely her senses and her body become overloaded. She’s still on the fight or flight alert and we know how that can erode your energy and nutrients.” Sterling watched the young woman from a distance.
“Exactly.”
“How long has she been here?”
The medic checked the file. “Two nights. The staff says she takes cat naps but never really sleeps for long.”
“Why wasn’t I called earlier?”
“I thought you had been.”
Sterling processed the information as he approached the woman. His wife had said she was special. Maybe she was empathic or had greater than average intuition. His own intuitive abilities that ran into the parapsychological realm, seemed to recognize her as a kindred spirit. Regardless, once he assessed her, he would send her to the women’s center. It wasn’t safe here.
“Let’s see if I can get her assessed and to the center today. Then I’ll see about taking her home.” He would do that only because Maya had requested it. She seemed to think that this woman’s protectors were coming for her. He had learned to never disregard Maya’s words.
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