Awaken: A Dystopian Science Fiction Adventure

by Troy McLaughlan

  John led me to the spot on the wall where I was scanned, followed by the green light.

  “Congratulations mate,” the being said before deactivating his helmet and holstering his weapon. He had shorn black hair, wispy eyebrows, and thick heavyset brown eyes. Two ragged scars ran from left side of his sturdy rectangular chin to the opposite side of his face, cutting off part of his ear. “Welcome to the Resistance.”

  A panel in the floor slid back revealing a shaft of light and a narrow stairwell. With butterflies in my stomach, I followed John inside.

  CHAPTER 6

  We walked briskly down several brightly lit corridors passing dozens of men and women in green fatigues. Two of them had pink bubbles of scar tissue in their foreheads where their skull stars should be, while the rest all had similar facial features like square chins, brown or green eyes, and thick black hair. Their hair lines and body builds were also similar like they were all part of the same extended family.

  They all greeted John with a friendly nod. The women glanced at me before turning away, seemingly disinterested, while the men kept their gaze focused on me.

  Goosebumps on the back of my neck flared up and I stepped closer to John. “Why is everyone looking at me?”

  “We don’t have many cute girls with blonde hair and blue eyes.”

  We rounded a corner and in a caged area were several armor backpacks. Two hooked mandibles extended on each, and they were crunching into several hunks of meat.

  “What the hell!” I jumped back feeling my skin crawl. “What are they doing?”

  John shrugged his shoulders. “They’re feeding.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. I couldn’t believe I had one of those things wrapped around my body. “You didn’t tell me those things actually ate.”

  “No, but I told you they were biomechanical. We have to feed them something.”

  At the end of the hall, he opened a door and entered a darkened room lined with wood tables and purple hand-sized blobs with white eyes that sprouted holographic projections. Over a dozen people sat at them engaged in heated conversations. You could barely hear yourself think above the din. A man at the far end, who could’ve easily been John’s brother, rushed over and gave him a big bear hug.

  “Glad you made it back,” he said in English. “When you didn’t check in, I feared the worst.”

  John smiled. “I got a little sidetracked.”

  The man turned and raised an eyebrow as his gaze raked over every part of me. It made me uncomfortable and I felt like he was undressing me with his eyes. “So I see. She’s beautiful, nice body too. What’s her slave ID?”

  “My name is Lumenara,” I said, irritated by his stare and comments. You would think these men had never seen a woman before.

  The man blushed and took a step back. “She speaks English?”

  John laughed. “And you better watch your tongue because she understands it as well.” John turned to me. “This is Max. He’s the leader of our brigade.”

  Max extended his hand. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  I didn’t know what to make of the hand gesture and after a moment he turned back to John. “You’ll have to fill me in about your friend later. Do you have the intel?”

  “Right here.” John pulled out a data chip from his pocket. “I promised Lumenara we would update her on the latest Targ activity at the volcano in exchange for information.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “She showed me three vulnerabilities in the Targ armor that can immobilize it, and she knows why they are building the force shielded complex.”

  “Really.” Max put a hand to his chin. “Alright, but why does she want the intel about the Targs?”

  “She needs a safe route to the volcano.”

  Max’s eyebrows rose. “That’s suicide. Why would she want to do that?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know, but she’s very insistent that she needs to get there ASAP.”

  Max paced a few times and rubbed his hands. “You took all the precautions when you brought her here?”

  “Yep.”

  He turned to me. “Well, I can’t stop you from leaving, even though we could use you.” Max looked me straight in the eyes. “You’re sure I can’t talk you out of it?”

  I shook my head. “I have to leave. The quicker the better.”

  He smiled. “Very well.” He took John’s data chip and inserted it into a jelly like slot on one the blobs. A holographic map of Mt. Kilimanjaro appeared. Red splotches lined the base of the volcano that thinned to a red line in a small section on one side. “Our latest intel is almost sixteen hours old, but it looks like your safest route would be to approach from the northeast.” He pointed to an area on the map. “There’s a ravine here you might be able to use to—”

  The man with the scarred face burst into the room and ran up to Max.

  “Sir,” he said between breaths. He motioned his head to me. “It’s about her.”

  John stepped in front of me. “What about her?”

  He tilted his head toward John. “Her ovaries are intact, mate.”

  The entire room hushed, and Max gave the scarred man a penetrating stare. “You’re certain?”

  “Triple checked the scans myself.”

  “And her DNA differentiation rate?”

  “Over sixty bloody percent.”

  Max glanced at me then back at the scarred man. “Any defects from the artificial ageing?”

  “None.” The scarred man shot a look back at me. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was born in that slave camp.”

  Max’s jaw dropped open and every person in the room, including John, gaped wide eyed at me. My instincts screamed to get out.

  Max looked up at John. “Did you know about this?”

  “No,” John stammered. “She has a skull star. I thought all slave girls had their ovaries removed after puberty.”

  My skin crawled from all the intense stares. “I think I have what I need.” I turned and just as I was ready to make a dash for the door, a snap of some fingers echoed. Two of the men moved to block my path.

  “I’m sorry,” Max said, “but I can’t let you leave.”

  “Max,” John said, “I promised her—”

  “That was before we knew about this. I’m enacting the EVE protocol…”

  I didn’t wait for another word. I leapt at the two men, kicking one in the groin while slamming an open palm into the adams-apple of the other. They both staggered back, and I rushed for the door.

  “Don’t shoot,” Max said.

  I grabbed the handle and turned.

  “Tasers only! We need her alive!”

  Just as the door opened, something stabbed into my back. My entire body locked up, and I fell. A numbing sensation raced across my skin like ants crawling all over me. I got up and yanked out two pins stuck in my back.

  An alarm sounded, and I bolted down the hall. Three men came out of the next room in front of me.

  “Don’t hurt her!” John shouted.

  They each drew a square blue box attached to a pistol grip. I jumped at them and readied my fists when they fired. My body locked up again, and I tumbled to the ground. The sensation was much more intense. I could barely feel my fingers.

  Footsteps pounded behind me. I managed to get to my knees.

  “How in the hell is she resisting the tasers?” Max said.

  I pulled out the pins.

  “Hold her down!” Max shouted.

  The three men grabbed at my arms and legs. I kicked one in the face and slammed my fist into another. More arms grabbed at me from every direction.

  “Damnit Max, don’t do this!” John said.

  Max’s face appeared with hypodermic needle in his hand.

  “Don’t,” John cried.

  He jammed it into my neck and pressed. I gritted my teeth and struggled with every ounce of strength I had. My arm freed, and I punched at Max before my vision blurred. My fist
impacted against something soft, and he cursed. The hallway began to spin.

  “Lumenara,” John’s voice echoed. “I’m so sorry.”

  My muscles became numb and then everything went black.

  ~~~

  My head pounded when I awoke and my vision was still fuzzy. I blinked a few times and there stood John right in front of me. I leapt up, ready to rip his head off, but something yanked at my wrists and snapped me back down.

  Behind me was a metal bench, and I was seated on it with my hands behind my back. They were separated an inch or two apart, but something hard around my wrists was holding them in place. I tugged a few times forward and felt the tension on my arms, a metal chain bolted to the wall clinked.

  John’s eyes were soft, puppy like. “I suppose you’re angry with me.”

  I was in a small square gray room with one wall missing. It was lined with metal bars bolted to the ceiling and floor. The bars were rusty gray and sported flakes of bubbled paint. An open barred door with a heavy laminated padlock stood at the far end.

  I bared my teeth. “Oh, I am way, way past angry.”

  “If you would just listen—”

  My body shook with fury. “You promised me I could leave!”

  “I know! And I’m sorry, but I had no idea what you were. You have to understand—”

  “Understand what?”

  “When the Targs first came, they exterminated us, but they targeted our women and girls in particular. They used viruses that caused ovarian cancer, employed hunter killer teams, and poisoned the water to sterilize them, all this to keep us from breeding.”

  I jumped up and the chain slammed me back down. “I already know this!”

  John put his hands out. “What you don’t know, is only thirty-eight women of breeding age survived with their reproductive organs intact. Every single member of the Resistance is descended from one of those women. The signs of inbreeding have already started to manifest. To find a slave with her ovaries intact…is nothing short of a miracle.”

  “Wait a minute…” Fear and disgust wormed through my body. “You’re going to rape me.” I slid back against the wall, repulsed by him.

  “No!” John said. “Never.”

  He stepped forward, and I cowered back. I couldn’t look at him anymore.

  “We’re just going to harvest your eggs. We’ll use in-vitro fertilization and implant them in surrogate mothers. You’ll be treated like queen. Given the best food, medical care, guarded around the clock.”

  “And how long will this take?”

  He bowed his head. “A—a few decades, until you stop producing eggs.”

  My body became limp and nausea erupted in my stomach. “I see, so I’ll be in a cage. A slave again for the rest of my life.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. Don’t you understand you can save us?”

  “Why don’t you just take my DNA? You could use it to make eggs.”

  “And we would if we knew how, but we don’t. We’re hacking this alien tech together as best we can, but we’re warriors not scientists. You’re our best hope for the future.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “It’s you who doesn’t understand. If you want to have a future, you have to let me go.”

  He threw his hands out. “Why? What so damned important about that volcano?”

  I couldn’t tell him. Not now. Not after he just stood there and let them do this to me. I stared him straight in the eyes. “Are you going to let me go?”

  He took a step back, a look of anguish was on his face. “I can’t.”

  “Then I have nothing more to say to you.”

  “Lumenara please...”

  I curled my legs up and turned away trying to blot him out of my mind.

  “Lumenara…”

  I determined there and then that I would fight him with only weapon I had left.

  CHAPTER 7

  Later that afternoon, John and four men entered the room. One was wearing a white lab-coat and carried a small white case.

  John had a blank expression on his face, but I knew he was still upset. He moved inside my cell with a slow resigned gate, his head lowered and eyelids wide.

  The three guards grabbed my arms and legs. One of them un-cuffed a hand and struggled to hold it straight out while the man in the lab-coat pulled a needle from the case.

  John just watched, but didn’t participate.

  I fought back, screaming, flailing my body, refusing to hold still. The medic pressed the needle into a vein in my arm.

  There was a pinch, and I managed to get a leg free. I curled around and kicked the medic in the hand as he inserted the needle. I relished in the moment, at the satisfying crunch of breaking bones and the scream of the medic. Blood shot from my arm. A guard raised his baton to strike me, but John caught his wrist and wrestled the baton from him.

  “Don’t hurt her,” he growled.

  I flashed John a wicked grin. He still cared. I didn’t understand why, but it was an advantage I intended to use.

  “We’re done here,” John said.

  “But Max—”

  John lifted the guard by his shirt collar. A vein bulged in his forehead. “We’re done!”

  When the rest of them left, I let John bandage my arm. He was so close I could bite him, but I didn’t say a word. He cuffed my wrist, and I stared my hatred into his puppy dog eyes.

  Do you feel that John? Do you know what you’ve done?

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t believe me, but I never wanted any of this to happen.”

  He left with his head hung low, and I laid down on the bench as best I could.

  I trusted you. How could you do this to me?

  Hours later, I dozed off. That night I awoke to see Max staring at me from outside my darkened cell. His eyes were wide and lustful like a dog staring at his master’s steak. My stomach churned, and I shrank back. When he realized I was awake, his head snapped toward the hall and he jogged away.

  The memory of those eyes haunted me. I never saw that look from John. His were always soft and caring, maybe even guilty.

  For the next two days, I refused to eat or drink. And every time they came to take another blood sample or scan me, I would fight back, shrieking, squirming, kicking, and biting.

  Each time, John was there.

  His weary eyes and forlorn expression told me this was hurting him, and I wanted it to hurt. To make him feel something of what I felt. Helplessness, mental anguish, depression. I wanted him to feel like he was just as much in a cage as I.

  ~~~

  On the third day, I awoke to see John standing in front of me with a plate of food. My stomach rumbled demanding to be fed, but my resolve had hardened. If I didn’t get out soon we were all dead anyway.

  “Please eat,” John said. “I know you’re hungry. Just one small bite. Could that really hurt?”

  No. One bite won’t hurt me, but it’s going to hurt you.

  I opened my mouth, and he rushed forward. He smiled and gently placed a spoonful of mashed potatoes on my tongue. I chewed for a long time, relishing the taste, my dry mouth soaking up the moisture. Then I smiled and spat the gooey paste into his face.

  His jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed. It was the first time I saw a hint of anger in him, but it passed. He took his hand and wiped the mess from his nose and cheek.

  “Nice,” he said.

  He looked me in the eyes. His expression had changed. He wasn’t sad anymore. It was more like pity.

  “You really think this hunger strike is going to stop Max? If I go back now with this plate full, he’ll blend it into a liquid and pour it down your throat.”

  And I’ll just vomit it back up.

  He stood. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you being treated like a rabid animal.” He shook his head. “But I also can’t stop you.”

  Damn right, you can’t.

  He turned to the door and shuffled forward. “I get it; going to th
at volcano means everything to you. I want to believe you. I want to help you.”

  He turned to me. A wild desperation burned in his red veined eyes. “But you have to tell me why. Give me something? Anything?”

  He waited. A voice inside me screamed to tell him the whole truth, but I couldn’t. Not after what he did.

  His gaze fell and he turned to the door. “You know trust goes both ways. You let me know when you’re ready to trust me.”

  I couldn’t believe he just said that.

  Trust? You really think I’m ever going to trust you again?

  Anger boiled within me. “Why?” I asked.

  He whipped around and winced. It was the first word I had spoken to him in three days. His eyes were large and puppy-like again. His mouth hung open like he was desperate for me to say more.

  I pressed my lips together, struggling to contain my anger. “Why should I trust you, when you just stood there and let them do this to me?”

  He shrunk back and hung his head. Seconds passed and my rage built.

  “Answer me!”

  He flinched like I had just slapped him.

  “I can’t. I don’t know what to say except you’re right. I have no excuse.” His licked his lips and stared deep into my eyes. “But I have been doing everything I can to get you out.”

  I scoffed and turned away.

  He moved into my vision, put down the plate of food, and struggled to get down on his knees. “I’ve spent hours trying to convince Max to let you go. I’ve disobeyed orders, insisted on being here so I can protect you. Got others to try to talk to Max, but…he’s obsessed with keeping you.”

  I glared back at him.

  More lies.

  His bottom lip quivered. “But nothing I say will make you believe me.” He lifted up the back of his shirt. Strips of gauze were taped in lines across it. He pealed them off one by one, grunting, his face twisted with pain. Behind them were red, scabbed over sores sliced into his back. Some still seeped blood.

  “Last night, I tried going over Max’s head and contacted command. Max was furious. He told everyone I broke radio silence, and risked exposing our brigade to attack. So he whipped me for it.” He let his shirt slide back down. “And you know what? I’d do it all over again, if I thought it would get you out.”