by Ballan, Greg
* * * *
The low hum of an air recirculation system woke her from the terrible dream. She opened her eyes, struggling to focus on unfamiliar surroundings. Her head throbbed and her limbs felt heavy.
As she sat up, the realization that she was naked had her reaching for the sheets to cover her torso. She spied her clothing neatly folded on a nearby chair.
She looked around: A fair-sized room, three white walls, and one clear – likely made of glass or plastic. A sofa directly opposite her bed looked inviting. A bar refrigerator and kitchenette were set up near the sofa and a coffee table sat against the opposite wall, next to a sink, mirror, toilet and shower stall. A heavy gray curtain hung from a ceiling track around the lavatory as if someone had gone to some effort to ensure a modicum of privacy.
Shanda spied a moving camera mounted inside a clear concave shielding. She wrapped the bedcovers more tightly around her body, shielding her from prying eyes and then fetched her clothing.
Her muscles were rubbery, and each step took great effort and concentration. She nearly stumbled twice before reaching her clothing. Something was desperately wrong. She took the garments and gave the camera a disgusted look. She reached the protection of the gray curtain, drew it closed and dressed.
She traced the outline of her upper body. Fingertips paused at bony protrusions on her once soft shoulders. Her eyes followed her fingertips in the mirror as they probed the indentations of her protruding ribcage. Her hand caressed the tight skin of her stomach. Her hip bones protruded from her torso and the feminine roundness in her lower stomach had vanished, replaced by a taut abdomen.
“I must have lost at least fifteen pounds. What the hell happened to me?” she wondered aloud.
She put on her bra and was somewhat satisfied as she still filled it. But her jeans hung loose and sagged upon her hips, yet she knew they were form fitting the last time she had them on. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. How long had she been asleep?
Her face had been washed clean of make-up and the once neon purple that highlighted her hair was now faded and dull. Despite fear and confusion Shanda felt somewhat better once she was dressed and less exposed to the camera.
She drew the curtain back and walked toward the clear wall. Seeing no obvious door, she absently placed a palm against the clear barrier. A slight tingling coursed through her hand, uncomfortable but not unbearable. An electrical field? What was its purpose? Clearly, it wouldn’t deter her from approaching the transparent wall.
“This is some sort of jail cell,” she whispered with a sinking feeling in her chest.
Following a moment assessing her situation, Shanda straightened to her full height and walked over to the camera unit. She waved her hands wildly. “Hey in there, what’s going on?” She then put her hands on her hips, awaiting some kind of answer.
Then the horrible truth hit her. “Erik!” she screamed as she clutched her head. “Erik, baby, where are you?” The link she depended on so much was gone, severed.
Shanda closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing her telepathic energies inward, to the one thing in this world that mattered to her most, her husband. She pictured his face, strained to get a reading on his mental imprint.
Erik? Erik, are you, nearby? Can you hear me? She projected her questions outward.
She kept still for several moments, straining to hear the familiar response to her call, Normally his presence would fill her mind like a warm, secure blanket. But now her mind remained a barren void.
ERIK! Her mind screamed for him.
Erik can’t hear you but I can. Please do not shout.
Startled, Shanda whipped around, trying to localize the source of the transmission.
The field you encountered is a shield that minimizes telepathic reception and transmission. An unfamiliar voice whispered in her head. No one outside of this room will be able to detect your calls for assistance.
Who and where are you?Where am I?
I regret that I cannot fully answer your second question with any degree of accuracy. You are being held in a military installation on Earth. From what I have gathered, this installation deals with extra terrestrial encounters and countermeasures. The soft voice was non-threatening, almost soothing to her. As for where I am, I reside in the cell directly opposite you. I am currently behind a fabric barrier because you may find my appearance distressing. The voice in her head sounded almost sad.
Why would you feel the need to hide? Her curiosity rose.
Because I am not of this world and am unlike you in appearance. I have no wish to cause you further turmoil than you’re already experiencing.
Shanda laughed nervously. You wouldn’t be the first alien I’ve encountered. Please show yourself and allow me to meet you in person.
Shanda walked over to the clear barrier and prepared herself to be shocked. She looked across the hallway expectantly. A curtain – similar to the one that separated her toilet facilities – slid along its guiding rail.
A small grayish white bipedal creature lumbered toward the clear barrier that served as its fourth prison wall.
Shanda gasped, not in horror but in wonder. She studied the tiny alien with deep interest, and even through the telepathic shielding he’d alerted her to, she detected he was doing the very same – studying her.
Do you suffer any ill effects from your long sleep?
Just a migraine headache and some weakness in my legs. What is your name?
You could not pronounce my name but the soldiers have nicknamed me ‘Gray.’
How long have I been sleeping?
From what little information I’ve gathered you have been unconscious for five weeks.
“That would explain the weight loss.” Shanda felt the first hunger pangs as her body and metabolism became fully awake. Her telepathic plea to her husband had used up energy her body was now starving to replace with calories.
The tiny alien continued to gaze at her, tipping his head slightly toward his right shoulder.
The creature was similar to the ‘Little Green Men’ described in all the alien abduction television specials and in all the classic UFO movies.
She smiled at Gray. Another mystery revealed: You guys are real. Her hunger pangs became more severe and a sudden wave of nausea caused her body to convulse in several dry heaves. She rushed back to her bed and lay down. The nausea persisted, accompanied by a staggering dizziness. She moaned in agony as her undernourished body endured the violent spasms. After several long minutes, the sickness passed, but not the hunger.
“Oh God, that was horrible,” she mumbled as she sat up tentatively. Shanda spied the refrigerator and hoped that food might help suppress her hunger pangs and the nausea brought on by an empty stomach.
“Food, please,” she whispered as she painfully made her way toward the cabinets. The shelves contained several varieties of crackers, a jar of peanut butter and multiple small jelly packets of assorted flavors. She opened the refrigerator not knowing what to expect. Several pints of milk, various juices, packaged meats along with some eggs filled the available space.
“At least I won’t starve,” she mumbled, reaching for a milk carton. Using the top of the refrigerator as a counter, she spread some peanut butter on a few crackers and then popped a spoonful of peanut butter into her mouth. She followed that with a large swig of milk and savored the sensation of the icy cold beverage coating her stomach.
After her snack, she sat on the couch pondering the bizarre circumstances of her captivity. She was scared. A feeling she hadn’t experienced since she added ‘Knight’ to her last name.
She was married to the most powerful human being on the planet. Her husband had the physical strength of a Titan and other powers that made him a one-man battalion. Yet somehow her captors had managed to nullify the link that joined them. She groaned in frustration. The military had installations all over the world. She had no idea where she was held or for what purpose.
The camera moved a
nd seemed to zoom directly on her. A stronger wave of fear filled her. Someone was manipulating the camera and scrutinizing her every move. In a fit of rage, she lifted a cushion from the couch and flung it at the camera. It hit the membrane shielding the camera and bounced off, ending up on the cell floor.
She buried her face in her hands to hide her despair. Erik would find her, eventually. And when he did she would do nothing to stop the carnage he’d wreak on her abductors.
Are you better? The alien voice gently spoke in her mind.
She looked across her cell. Gray stood watching her. Yes, thank you. She was curious. Where is your home world? Her attention was diverted from herself and her plight, to her unusual companion.
My home is at the other end of this galaxy, but I lived on an observation station with others of my kind on an asteroid orbiting between two of this system’s planets. His words conveyed loneliness.
How long have you been in this prison?
Several of your Earth months. I fear that my usefulness has come to an end.
Before Shanda could inquire further, a loud sound echoed throughout their cells followed by the hissing of pressurized air being released. An oversized door parted, revealing the hallway between the captives’ cells. Shanda stood up; her stomach knotted with the anticipation of meeting her captors. Two men and a woman, garbed completely in white, entered. An armed guard plus two other men in military uniforms followed soon after. One of the uniformed men had a familiar bearing and presence. He looked at her with grotesque satisfaction. Shanda took a nervous step backward.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty finally awakens.” The familiar military man began speaking with a dark lilt to his voice. “I trust that you’re comfortable, Mrs. Knight.” He nodded toward the mess she left on the refrigerator. “I see you’ve helped yourself. I’m sure you’re famished,” he added in a sinister tone. Shanda narrowed her eyes in assessment. It was a tone bullies use to frighten their helpless victims.
“I’ve seen you before,” she said. As soon as the words left her mouth, her mind placed the face and a shudder ran up her spine. Her instincts confirmed that her situation was probably far worse than she first imagined.
“Major Ross! What rock did you crawl out from under?” she asked, recalling the hostile interviews this man had put her husband through shortly after his employment with Denton Marques and Priscoli.
Erik had reluctantly submitted to the debriefings because of his new position within the powerful law firm. But he took exception to his rude treatment and abruptly ended the interrogation.
Ross smirked. “I’m flattered, Mrs. Knight; however, it’s Colonel Ross now.”
“Don’t be!” she snapped as she walked toward the clear wall. “I guess scum does rise to the top. Let’s cut the bullshit and tell me why on Earth you would kidnap the wife of a top CIA government operative.”
“I haven’t kidnapped anybody.” A look of pure innocence covered his face. “In order to kidnap somebody, that person has to be alive.” Ross gestured to the armed guard standing near a control panel. The guard activated a series of buttons and the clear barrier separating her and Ross dropped into the ground.
Shanda stepped back and instinctively raised her arms protectively, balling her hands into fists. She crouched slightly readying her weakened body for whatever would happen next.
The colonel entered her chamber, followed closely by the three people in white clothing.
“They are doctors, Mrs. Knight. They’ve been monitoring you for the past month or so. They would like to take your pulse, extract a small blood sample and give you a brief physical examination. They will not harm you, but I advise you to cooperate.”
The physicians approached her. Shanda kept her ready-for-attack stance. One of the doctors tentatively reached out to take her pulse. She grabbed his arm and twisted it like a pretzel. The man shrieked in agony as his arm was forced up behind his back. Shanda placed her other arm under his jaw, her thumb and index finger on the sensitive points where the lower jaw was hinged to the rest of the skull, applying pressure to the arteries residing there.
“In twenty seconds this man will pass out. In thirty seconds his brain will begin the process of a stroke. I appreciate your company colonel, but I really must be going now.” She dragged her shield toward the open doorway.
Ross stepped back calmly. “Sergeant!” he called over his shoulder. “As soon as she comes within one foot of the EM field, shoot her.”
“You wouldn’t shoot me, Ross. You know what my husband would do to you when he finds out.”
Ross reached inside his military suit coat and produced a copy of The Milford Daily News. As she read, her fingers loosened and tears flowed. Shanda had played out her hand, and was trumped. Ross had all the cards and she now knew it.
“You’re already dead, Mrs. Knight. As far as the world knows, you were incinerated in a tragic accident with a gasoline tanker trunk – your body burned beyond recovery or recognition. I’m told you were given a beautiful service and that your husband wept like a baby.” Ross tossed her obituary notice onto the nearby table.
Shanda released her hostage and flopped down hard on the couch. Her hope was gone; to the world she was no more than a memory and to her husband she would always be an empty hole in his mind and heart.
“You’re going to burn in the deepest pit of Hell for this,” she spat out. The three doctors approached her and she sat motionless while they performed their ministrations.
The doctors were surprisingly gentle with her, even the one she had manhandled. The female physician studied several charts and gently placed her stethoscope below her ribcage. Shanda flinched as the cold metal touched her bare skin.
“I’m sorry,” the woman whispered into her patient’s ear. She moved her stethoscope up and down Shanda’s abdomen then finally nodded in approval. “We need to get you on some supplements. I’ll have some high calorie protein shakes added to your diet. You’ve lost too much weight. I’m also going to authorize a treadmill to be brought in three times a week; you need some regular exercise. I’ll have some small dumbbells brought in if you’d like. We’re going to have to monitor your weight carefully because of your confinement. I don’t want you gaining more than forty pounds with this pregnancy.”
Shanda felt faint at the realization. “My God,” she whispered, covering her exposed stomach. “This is about my baby. You want my baby!”
“And they say your husband is the detective,” Ross answered in a condescending tone.
Tears flowed again. She hadn’t told Erik about her pregnancy, but had planned a special candlelight dinner when he returned from his latest assignment. She wanted the moment to be perfect, an event they could look back on and cherish; now that moment would never come.
Shanda stared at the hallway, hoping that the telekinetic barrier didn’t function while the clear wall was down. If she could cross the threshold of her cell, maybe Erik would hear her calling; if she felt his presence she would know he felt hers. The guard holding the rifle presented a problem. Would he actually fire or simply try to detain her? Ross had dealt her a crippling blow but she still had one more card to play.
She shot off the couch and sprinted toward the hallway. Ross blocked her path. She leapt into the man, tackling him with all of her might. The surprised colonel stumbled backwards, pulling her outside the dampening curtain.
Ross shouted a string of obscenities that made the doctors blush. But his body served as a temporary shield; the guard couldn’t fire without putting his superior at risk. Several pairs of hands grabbed her and dragged her back toward her cell. She closed her eyes and used the last of her energy. “ERIK! Help me!” She shrieked the words, both her voice and her mind crying out.
Shanda felt a blow against the base of her skull. Ross had managed to deliver a strike with a free arm. Shanda staggered from the force and felt the blackness rising to claim her. Before she surrendered, she swung upon the colonel with an open palm strike that would ha
ve made her husband proud. The last sight she saw was a river of blood flowing from Colonel Ross’s nose.
* * * *
Sergeant Phelps grinned and shook his head in disbelief. The new captive was more dangerous than ten men, and as unpredictable as a wild cat. She had gotten the better of the colonel and she called him by name, which was more of a shock than her fighting ability. It was evident by the verbal exchange that captive and captor knew each other. She was also a telepath. He could still feel the imprint of her message. Anyone for miles around the base must have picked up on it.
“Lady, it’s sure going to be interesting having you around here,” he whispered to her limp form. “Will she be all right, Doctor?” Phelps asked with genuine sincerity.
“Yes, I think so. Right now she needs to eat and drink. I’ll have those protein shakes brought down soonest. Hopefully, we won’t have another escape attempt. Millions of dollars in preventive technology and we all get caught with our pants around our ankles.”
* * * *
Erik’s quarters were luxurious, bordering on embarrassing in their comfort. He ran the hot water in the eight-foot marble tub and methodically stretched his muscles while it filled. This was the first real down time he had in two or three days. He intended to make the most of it.
After several minutes of stretching and shadow boxing, he felt loose and limber. Erik immersed himself in the hot water and his body relaxed, sighing with ecstasy. I need to get one of these when I get home. Shanda will flip when— He paused and then exhaled heavily.
Erik closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cushioned headrest. Layer by layer, he eased himself into a meditative state. For the first time in over six weeks he felt more like himself. His mind was beginning to adjust to Shanda’s absence, yet he hoped he never would. Some part of him still wouldn’t accept the fact that she was gone.
For a brief moment, his mind felt her calling to him; the link burned hot then he experienced terror – her terror. Erik shot out of the tub like a bullet.