Captive by the Fog

by Laura Hardgrave

  “Sam!” David called out, climbing to his feet and shuffling toward me.

  “Get her away from there in case that thing comes back!” Bruce told him.

  Pain continued to spiral down through my body, and blood seeped down my back again. I opened my eyes and found my vision blurry.

  “Moonlight…I saw it!” I cried out. David dragged me away from the doors, even though my arms were still outreached, yearning to touch what was no longer there. “The fog! We can’t let it escape!” My voice wavered and my vision continued to blur.

  “Ssh,” my dad murmured, “try and rest now. We need to stop this bleeding.” I faintly heard Simon growling near me and Bruce grumbling about needing to have him declawed.

  David leaned me up against a wall. The wall was cold, but not metallic. We couldn’t be in the mother ship. We were in some building near our home, where there were double doors. The thought encouraged me to try and sit up and find a way out of this new prison, but my body refused to listen to my brain. My eyes shut, and my consciousness drifted away again. The last thoughts in my mind focused on how damned beautiful the moonlit fog had looked as it whispered its way through that crack in the door.

  Chapter 3

  When I awoke, I sat up quickly, grimacing at the pain in my shoulder, and glared at my father and David, who we were both sitting next to me. Julie and Simon were sleeping next to David, and everyone else around us appeared wide awake, yet exhausted. A few small votive candles burned nearby. The tiny flames reflected in the eyes of everyone around us.

  “So…We’re just going to sit here?” I asked.

  “Just what are we supposed to do, Sam?” My father returned the glare but looked ready to collapse from exhaustion at any moment.

  “We tried everything we could,” David said, his voice hushed. “The doors are sealed, and there’s no other way out.”

  I glanced around the room. There was one small window out of reach, and it looked to be made of a thick, clear material that was clouded with age. No way would we get through that, even if we could somehow reach it. It looked to be boarded up from the outside, but a section of the boarding had fallen off, displaying a two-inch stretch of darkened sky. The ceiling above our heads was high, the floor smooth yet dust-covered, and there was no furniture. A small black box was mounted high up toward the ceiling on one wall. It reminded me of an old fashioned speaker.

  “Where the hell are we?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I attempted to discern more details of the dimly-lit room. “We’ve gotta be in Frisco still.” I did a quick head count. There were fifteen of us, including two small children. Everyone had split off into smaller groups, choosing corners of the room to settle down in. There didn’t seem to be any noise coming from outside.

  “Yeah, I agree,” David said. “It looks to be an older building. Might be part of the old town of Frisco. My initial guess is that our captors landed here before tonight and prepared this old warehouse, or whatever this is, for tonight’s purpose.” His eyebrows furrowed. “That means tonight wasn’t their first contact.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not so sure. This place seems…familiar somehow to me. It reminds me…” My voice trailed off. There were looming piles of dust in each of the room’s corners. Close to one of the piles I could make out red lines on the ground, about three inches wide. “Wait.” I scooted over to the lines, wincing again at the pain in my shoulder.

  The whole area was covered in dust, and the lines were barely visible under the layers. I wiped away a small patch of dust and dirt. It had a familiar smell somehow, mixed in with the smell of mustiness, but I couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t a terrible smell, nor a nice one. Just kind of familiar.

  “You find something?” David asked, eyes shining curiously. He joined me, bringing one of the votives over. I eyed the candle suddenly. “A nice lady gave us these,” he said, “and some gauze and tape for your shoulder. She thought to grab an earthquake kit as she ran out of her house.”

  “Smart,” I said. The dust rose from the floor around us, and I coughed. Another wave of pain jutted through my body. My hand closed on something. It felt like paper. I brought it over to the candlelight. “It’s a candy wrapper.”

  “Look, there’s more,” David said, rustling in the dust and finding more of them. “Blow Pops. Now and Laters. Starbursts. Sunflower seed shells. What a peculiar diet for aliens to have.”

  I scooted away from the pile for a second to stare at the red lines and follow them across the floor, now that I could see them better. The lines formed a half circle that ended at a wall. A smaller circle was in the middle. They were painted on the floor with precision, like they were supposed to be there.

  “These lines, maybe they’re used in some type of alien military exercise?” David offered.

  I glanced upward, shaking my head. His idea just didn’t make sense. Above my head was a mounted panel with connecting chains that hung from a rusted metal hoop. Realization hit. “We’re in a school gymnasium,” I said. “That’s a basketball hoop, and this is the court.”

  David’s mouth gaped open as he quickly nodded. “Of course! That also explains the solid double doors, the lack of windows, and the high ceilings.”

  “Must be an elementary school or middle school, since there are no bleachers. Hasn’t been used in some years.” I laughed suddenly. “Now and Laters were hot at my high school. Wrappers all over the goddamn place.” The smell I’d noticed must have been the familiar scent of a school gym, a subtle mix of sweat, dust, plaster, and rubber sports equipment.

  David stood and held the candle before him as he explored the wall to our side. He stopped when he found a metal bar sticking out. He wrestled with it for a few seconds and then yanked it downward. A metallic creak echoed through the gym, and in a flurry of dust, part of the wall came loose. David dragged the loose part down to the floor and extended the metal bar. It locked with a snap, forming a bench.

  “I remember those,” I said. “My elementary school had those in the auditorium. We used them for rainy days.”

  A few people near us looked around the room for similar bars, and brought down the benches near them. This way we didn’t have to sit on the floor at least. I stayed on the floor and scooted back to the bench where my dad sat, leaning against it.

  My shoulder did need rest. My dad poked at the bandage from behind me.

  “Ow,” I winced, turning to face him. “You know, I forgot how much of a worrywart you can be.”

  “Sara must have given me that small part of her.”

  A smile crept over his pale skin in the candlelight. Sara was my mother. He loved and missed her as much as I did, but it was hard to tell with him sometimes. Sara and Bruce were a strange couple. They got along terribly at the end of their marriage, but years after their divorce, wounds healed, and they became friends again. I was always grateful for that.

  David walked by us, pacing.

  “How’s Julie?” I asked him.

  “Sleeping still, thank God. The less she remembers of all this, the better.” He paced up to the double doors and grabbed them, pulling back with all his strength. They didn’t budge. “Come here, if you feel up to it. I want to show you this.”

  I stood up, wincing, and made my way over to him. “What time is it anyway?”

  “Almost four in the morning.” He pointed to where there was generally a crack between the two double doors. “They usually make these things fairly easy to force open. But someone wants to keep us in here.”

  I followed his finger. There was a white substance sealing the distance between the two doors. I touched it. It was hard and reminded me of cement. I tried to see if any of it would brush off onto my finger. It appeared to be perfectly solid. I held my nose close to the doors and realized the material didn’t even have a noticeable scent. I sighed. “The real question is why they’re keeping us in here. What use could they possibly have for us?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I knew. I have some ideas, m
ostly revolving around our DNA being used as a food source and other such notions, but thinking about them too much makes me wish I didn’t know.”

  “I wish I was in my own bed,” my dad added from behind us. I couldn’t help but agree on both accounts.

  David sighed again and resumed pacing. He stopped next to Julie and sat down on the bench. “Maybe we should try and get some sleep. We need to be prepared for whatever they toss our way.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said, “but I don’t think I can.”

  “Me neither.”

  We heard a series of clicks from somewhere above our heads, and one by one we gazed up to try and find the source. We were answered by being blanketed in light. The gym’s overhead lights buzzed to full power, and we frantically blinked and surveyed every corner.

  “Who did that?” a voice shouted.

  “Who’s there?” came another.

  “Show yourselves! We deserve to know who’s holding us captive!” David yelled.

  The black box that was attached to one wall crackled. I inspected the box in the light and realized it was one of those old fashioned intercom boxes they used to broadcast campus-wide announcements and period bells with.

  “Do you re-quire sus-ten-ance?” The voice coming through the speaker sounded mechanical, forced, as if it were coming from one of those voice recordings on a telephone—the calls you usually hung up on. There was no accent of any sort. The English was understandable, barely. Each syllable was painfully sounded out.

  “Yes!” an African-American lady near us shouted. “Water, please!” She was the one who gave us the candles. I noticed her bag of supplies and pile of blankets. She was munching on crackers as she spoke. How the hell did she think to grab all that? Too bad I wasn’t that smart.

  “Some juice for my son, please!” another voice shouted.

  “A cold, stiff drink, please!” someone else added. A few people laughed hesitantly.

  “Show us who’s speaking!” David added. “Tell us what you want!”

  The intercom box crackled with static, and then clicked off.

  The lady with the crackers turned to face us. “Don’t you dare start anything yet,” she warned. “I can’t die in here, my grandson needs me. We gotta live.” Her eyes were fierce, yet a hue of warmth shone through them.

  David held his head down, as though embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intent. I have family out there still too. It’s just…the not knowing…It’s like being purposely held in the dark.”

  “The not knowing will drive you crazy,” I finished. “The more we find out, the more we can plan our escape.”

  “Who you kidding, honey?” The woman laughed. “Have you seen those machines they’re carting around? They’re way above us. And what do we have to protect ourselves with?”

  “That doesn’t mean we give up already!” I shouted. “We haven’t even seen them!”

  “I didn’t say to give up! We just gotta sit tight until the right time. For now we gotta make sure we get what we need to keep on living.”

  I couldn’t really argue with that. She had a point. We didn’t have any water, and those crackers were probably the only food we had between all fifteen of us. There wasn’t even a bathroom in the gym for tap water. I sighed. “You’re right. We do need to make sure we stay alive first.”

  She nodded. “This shouting won’t get us anywhere, either. My name’s Naomi. I already know David here.” She smiled warmly at him.

  “My name’s Sam. This is my father, Bruce. Thank you for the candles, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome. I have a few more in here.” She gestured toward her bag. “Speaking of which…” She blew out the two candles near us. “Best be saving these for when it goes dark again.” She paused, and then turned back toward me. “Sam like short for Samantha?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Samantha’s much prettier, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. But I’m a simple person. I like the simplicity of Sam.” I suddenly wished there was somewhere to hide.

  “I’m not so sure about that, honey. You seem pretty brave to me. Brave ain’t exactly simple. But then again, you’re young. You young folks have guts.” She smiled at me.

  A blush snuck onto my face. I didn’t feel brave very often, and I wasn’t given compliments very often, either.

  Bruce shuffled off our bench and onto the floor noisily. I turned to him. “I think I need to try and get some sleep,” he said. He didn’t look well. Paler than usual. His neck started jerking with tremors. How much blood has he lost from the gashes on his shoulders?

  Naomi grabbed one of the blankets next to her and handed it to me. “Here, Bruce, take this. I have a couple to spare.”

  I took the blanket eagerly and wrapped it around him as he lay down parallel to our bench. I took off his glasses and placed them on the bench. “Thank you very much, Naomi. Try and get some rest, Dad.” Just then, Simon left Julie’s side and rubbed up against me, eyes wide. “Oh, and have a cat.” I hugged Simon and led him to Bruce’s side, where he curled up into a ball on the blanket.

  Naomi gave another blanket to David. “For your daughter.”

  He thanked her and wrapped Julie up in it, careful not to wake her. I suddenly envied the little girl’s ability to sleep through the commotion.

  Naomi stood and walked to an empty bench on the opposite side of the room, motioning for us to follow. David extended an arm to help me up, and together we joined her. Most of the people around us were laying on the floor, attempting to fall asleep. I was careful not to make too much noise as I hobbled along.

  “Boy, that thing really ripped through you,” Naomi noted in a low voice.

  “Yeah, and it keeps tearing open,” I grumbled, taking a seat next to her.

  “It just you and your father?”

  “Yep, and my cat, Simon.”

  “No other family? Boyfriend?”

  I shook my head. “The rest of my family’s either gone or moved far away. I’m not close with them anymore. And I’m sadly single, though it wouldn’t be a boy I’d go for anyway.”

  “I see. That explains the nickname.” Naomi smiled.

  “Eh, I guess,” I said, shrugging. “I’m just me.” My thoughts randomly went back to Matt and how angry I was with him earlier. That whole thing seemed so stupid now.

  “And that’s how it should be. I have a gay nephew. He’s strong and sweet like you are. I admire him.”

  I fumbled for words. I was unaccustomed to people being so nice to me. I didn’t have to fumble for long. A loud scraping sound rumbled from behind the wall in front of us. I swallowed hard. Now what are they doing? A tendril of fear began to swim up my spine, and I clenched my teeth together as the three of us stood, readying ourselves. Except there was nowhere to go, and very little we could do.

  A metal plate about the size of a moving box opened up in the wall. A metallic arm similar to the one on the transportation device crept out slowly, snake-like. It carried a large jug. David moved in front of us in an attempt to protect us.

  The arm was smaller than those on the hovercrafts, and had four jointed fingers instead of two sharp claws. It shone with the same silver glint that the rest of their metal shone with. The material, whatever it was, was almost too bright. It must be treated differently than our metal or was made from different elements than we were used to.

  The arm dropped the jug near David’s feet, and then quickly receded into the wall again, the metal plate closing almost instantaneously with a scrape and a bang. The three of us glanced down at the jug, afraid to touch it.

  Another scrape rang out, and the plate opened again. The arm crept out faster this time, carrying a large cardboard box. It plopped it down next to the jug, and disappeared into the wall again. Another scrape, another bang, and the plate was secured in place once more. Silence returned to us, and we stared at one another.

  Naomi sat down again slowly, placing a hand over her heart. “Now what?” s
he asked us. “I volunteer you two to check that stuff out. Find out if it’ll explode.”

  Footsteps shuffled behind us as people walked up to peer over our shoulders. I took a step forward gingerly and inspected the jug. It was made out of clear plastic and had a lid. It looked just like one of those Arrowhead water jugs, except larger. It even had a mini plastic faucet on the side. I slid it toward us, and the contents inside sloshed around.

  “I think it’s just water,” I said. “Do you happen to have any cups in that bag of yours, Naomi?”

  She let out a relieved breath and rummaged around in her bag. She pulled out a stack of paper cups and handed them to me. I tested out the faucet on the side. Clear, perfectly normal-looking water came out. I filled a cup and held it to my nose.

  “It smells fine,” I said, loud enough for everyone around us to hear. I glanced back toward Bruce and Julie and found them both sitting up, awake. The commotion must have awoken them. I debated if I really wanted to be the first to test out this alien-delivered water, then figured what the hell, and took a swig.

  It was the best water I’d ever tasted. I hadn’t even realized my throat had been parched until the liquid washed away some of the fragments of dust, debris, and fear that had settled inside my body. I drank the entire cup, filled it up again, and then held it up. “It’s fine. Help yourselves!”

  I started handing out cups. Everyone formed a line and began to talk excitedly among themselves. “Conserve the cups. They’re all we’ve got!” I announced above the voices. I gave the rest of the cups to Naomi, keeping three for myself, and walked away from the group.

  I found David kneeling next to the plate in the wall, pushing against the cracks where it had opened. “How’s that sealed?” I asked him, handing him two cups.