Poseidia

by J. L. Imhoff

  “Look, David, all I want is the knife,” I pleaded.

  “And then what?”

  “And then I’ll leave,” I whimpered.

  “Sorry, I can’t take that chance, you should’ve stayed dead,” he hissed.

  I pressed back into the wall, leading to the stairs. You’re stronger now, Anna. What are you doing cowering from him? Old patterns were harder to break than I thought.

  Rotating my arms out of his grasp, I shoved him away from me. He grabbed the collar of my jacket and pulled me to him, just as he took something out of his back pocket, and plunged a needle into my arm.

  I kneed him in the balls and he slapped the sunglasses off my face. My cheek stung where he’d hit me. Fury flowed through my veins as I dropped to the floor and crawled to where my purse had landed. Weakness overcame me and darkness was closing in.

  “What did you do?” I asked through a haze.

  “You should’ve taken the drink, oh dear naïve Anna. Don’t go somewhere alone with a man who wants you dead. However, I have to say, I’ve become more interested in what is wrong with you, your eyes, and your skin. Maybe I’ll let you breathe long enough to find out.” As he plucked me up off the floor by the back of my jacket, I turned to hit him, but instead I slumped forward into his arms.

  David caught me and lowered me to the floor as the blackness took hold.

  Chapter 24

  Slowly regaining consciousness, I tried to open my eyes. Ignoring the body aches, I pulled on my arms and realized they were secured with handcuffs. The movement earned me a wave of nausea. The drug. Growing more alert, I discovered my feet were also secured, but with coarse rope that stretched only slightly, and scratched my ankles as I tested the binding.

  Eyes now wide open, I looked around my prison. Alone, I lay under a lofty comforter on a bed with my hands cuffed to a single bedpost. Scanning the room, my eyes watered when I stared into the sunlight, streaming through a dusty window, casting well-defined beams across the coverlet.

  How long was I out?

  Between the door and the bed, a video camera was aimed at me. Crap, what is he doing?

  The memory of David shoving a needle into my arm surfaced. I should’ve known better.

  I tugged on my arms hard, but they were held tightly; the cuff’s sharp edges cut into my flesh. A trickle of blood dribbled lazily down my wrist. I smelled its coppery tang amid the dust and new bedding starch. Weak from the drug David had given me, I gave up, focusing instead on finding another way out of here. Exhaustion tried to coax me back under, but I resisted the lure.

  Furious at my own stupidity, I craned my head as far as I could, and saw Roman’s knife, stripped of the jewels, on the nightstand next to the bed. David had left it there to taunt me, no doubt.

  Glad to see it, but unable to reach, I kept it in my sight.

  Roman is going to be livid with me.

  Am I missed in Poseidia yet?

  Voices boomed outside the door in front of me. I glanced toward it as David walked in. Hope of rescue momentarily dashed, I deflated.

  “Good morning, Anna,” he chimed, all bright and cheery.

  “Untie me, David, and let me go. This will get you nowhere.” My head pounded and the light hurt my eyes.

  “On the contrary, it’ll get me everywhere I want to be—on top of the world, making medical discoveries unknown to man.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Well, while you were sleeping, I took the liberty of undressing you. I wanted you to be comfortable. I didn’t think you would mind, since we have a history and all.”

  I shifted, and for the first time noticed I was dressed, but not in the same clothes A green hospital gown, opened in front, exposed my chest and abdomen. At least I was under the covers. “You did what?”

  “The weird thing is—it’s not at all as I remember,” he snorted.

  “Let me go, David,” I barked as my fury rose. “If you let me go now, I won’t call the police. I’ll leave, and you won’t have to see me again.”

  “Now, now,” he belittled. “That’s not very appreciative of you.”

  “Appreciative of what?” I asked, spitting the words at him.

  “Of the hospitality I’m showing you. I allowed you in my car and then in my house after I caught you in my office. I could’ve had you arrested.”

  “You’re insane. I’m sure the last thing you want is for anyone to see me alive,” I yanked at the handcuffs. My feet tingled from lack of movement and blood flow.

  “Well, now, be nice. Only one other person can see you alive. The rest of the world can see your dead body. I found someone who is interested in exploring what has infected you. Someone who has photos of you, or at least, a resemblance to you. He’s convinced you’re an alien and wants to assist in your dissection—on camera. To then post on the internet… or whatever will make him famous.” The mattress slumped as David sat on the edge.

  “What are you talking about? What photos?” A familiar knowing at the back of my mind tickled me to remember. The cave on the beach. Crap. “Dissect? You wouldn’t. You… you… can’t.”

  “I can. And if you don’t cooperate, I will. But don’t you worry. I have a few questions for you, and if you answer me nicely, then you’ll get your friend’s knife and you can go.”

  “I don’t believe anything you say,” I replied, angry with myself, my stomach clenching in terror.

  “Believe me or not, I don’t care. First question: Why is your skin iridescent under the makeup? And under your clothing, I might add. Good job on losing some weight. You look great, by the way. I knew you needed to tone up a bit, but you never listened to me.” His eyebrows raised.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Answer me,” he ordered.

  “I’ll tell you nothing.”

  “By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll tell me everything. In fact, you’ll be begging to tell me more.” He grabbed my lower leg and clamped his fingers around it, painfully digging into my calf muscle.

  I squirmed, but maintained my refusal. “I’d rather die.”

  “As you wish, but not before we get samples of various body tissues. Now how are we going to do this?”

  Stubbornly, I turned the back of my head to him as far as I could, indicating I wouldn’t say a word.

  “If you’re going to avoid answering my questions, I’m afraid I’m forced to take slices of you for research. You do want to help humanity, don’t you?” David released the tight grip on my leg, but eyed my covered body.

  Fuming, I stared straight ahead, not giving him an answer. Fear crept up my spine and into my throat, choking me, making me tremble.

  David pulled back the comforter. When he gasped, I followed his gaze and was shocked myself. Where the sun streaked across my torso, my skin looked normal—human. Where the sun didn’t touch, it remained iridescent. He curiously explored my skin over both areas and down the center of my chest.

  Don’t touch me you filthy disgusting beast.

  “Hmm, interesting, what are these?” he asked as he opened the gown, exposing my breasts, tracing his fingers down the side of my abdomen over my electroreceptors.

  An involuntary shock of sensation caused my eyes to roll back in my head, as I fought the false perception of pleasure.

  “Well, well.” David traced his fingers up and down over them.

  It took every ounce of strength to resist the sensations my body experienced. My breathing became heavy, but I fought to maintain control.

  Desperate, I thought of Roman and the Connective, and then tried to reach out to him, even though I was weak. Nothing.

  Then I remembered the mirrored bubble I placed around me and I imagined a pin bursting it from the inside. As soon as I did, I sensed Roman.

  A vision of him sparring with his apprentice back in Poseidia appeared in my head. Briefly, I connected with him and he glanced up, sensing me. The momentary lapse in his attention enabled Eric to land a solid hit to his tors
o, but the pain didn’t even register. Conversely, his anger at my deception and his fear for my life engulfed me. I found it hard to breathe.

  I’m going to die. Please take care of my baby.

  Confused, he didn’t understand why he sensed me in my bed all night and into the day, when I obviously wasn’t there. Cursing, at having underestimated my ability, he dropped his sword and ran. Then I lost the connection with him.

  “Answer my questions and this will go much easier for you,” David tried again, bringing me back to the moment.

  Resigned, and grateful for one final shared connection with Roman, I responded in a breath of air not much louder than a whisper, “Kill me, David, and get it over with.”

  “Aww, have you lost the will to live? We can have the world, honey. Whatever has happened to you could make us famous, not to mention rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

  “No, thank you. Being rich is not my dream. It’s yours.”

  He picked up Roman’s knife and traced the tip of it down my exposed body. “Pretty crappy to be on the other end isn’t it?”

  Strange justice if it is Roman’s blade that take’s my life.

  “Where did the jewels come from? They were worth a fortune, so thanks. It’ll pay for my new car, and some vacations.”

  I spat at him.

  Now visibly angry, he grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him. “I guess we do this the hard way then. Remember, it was your choice—you’re making me do this.” He left, slamming the door in frustration on his way out.

  Heated voices indicated an argument. Then a deafening quiet replaced the debate. I yanked at the handcuffs and ropes around my ankles. A thirst whimpered at the back of my throat, as if I hadn’t had anything to drink in forever. I know this feeling—dehydration.

  David returned, pushing a metal cart. Another man stood behind him, his ebony skin glistened with perspiration in the light from the windows. I recognized him instantly from the beach the night Roman and I had hidden in the cave.

  What is going on?

  Terror ripped its claws through my soul. I watched David as he pushed the cart, loaded with surgical tools, next to the bed. Oh no, no, no, no, no.

  “Anna, this is Bobby. Bobby this is Anna,” David announced.

  I stared at the man, Bobby, pleading to him with my eyes. “Help me,” I begged. “Don’t let him do this. I’m a good person, and I haven’t done anything to you or him. Please, help me.”

  Nervous sweat ran down his face. Beyond his fear and anxiety, the odor of disinfectant, and something vaguely metallic I couldn’t identify, added to the room’s scent. How did David find him?

  “Don’t waste your breath, Anna—he isn’t going to help you. He wants to be rich as much as the next person does. Well, everyone except you I suppose. He’s not going to ruin this one and only opportunity.” David turned to Bobby, and ordered, “Keep the gun trained on her. If she does anything, shoot her. At this point, for our purposes, it doesn’t matter if she is dead or alive.” Ahh… gunpowder. That’s what I’m smelling.

  Bobby’s eyes widened in fear as confusion seeped from his pores. He was second-guessing himself so I tried to connect with him. Maybe I could somehow influence him as the Connective’s euphoria had me.

  David nervously arranged tools on the cart, grabbed a scalpel, and sat down next to me. “Now, if you were my patient, I would say this isn’t going to hurt one little bit, but hey, we’re beyond all that now. It’s going to hurt.”

  Before I could utter another protest, and quicker than I thought possible, he sliced off one of the receptors on the side of my abdomen. I didn’t feel anything at first, but then the burning came, followed immediately by searing pain.

  I screamed.

  Tried to kick.

  And then sobbed.

  “Hey man,” Bobby protested. “I didn’t sign up for this kind of sick shit. I can’t watch this—this is gross. I want out.”

  Doing my best to push the pain toward Bobby, I watched as he visibly winced. He wiped his forehead and swallowed hard. His hands now shaking, the gun wavered.

  “Do as you’re told,” David barked.

  I begged David to stop as he sliced the gill under my arm, taking a large portion. Relenting, I told him I would tell him everything, but he ignored me, almost salivating as he brought his scalpel to my bleeding body repeatedly. Numb from pain, I lost count of the number of samples he took.

  Blood flowed down my torso and arms, soaking the sheets under me as it trickled down my back.

  Hopeless, I couldn’t fight anymore. Darkness edged its way into my consciousness and I warmly welcomed it. Vaguely, I sensed Roman again. He was at the Mer house in San Francisco, but didn’t know how to find me.

  I tried to send him an image of where I was, but that’s when I fell into the void.

  Later, when I woke, the pain had eased to a dull throb. Bandages covered the cuts David had made. So now he’s being considerate? There was still daylight, though the sun’s rays no longer beamed across the bed.

  The video camera was gone. My head pounded and throbbed along with my wounds. I need water.

  Roman. Mentally, I reached out and connected with him again. He’d gone to my old house, but obviously didn’t find David or me. Showing him images of the drive here, I focused on maintaining a connection to him, hoping he could track me. It was a long shot—I was unsure of how the link worked. And it wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was better than dwelling on my deteriorating physical state. Be patient, he’ll find you.

  The door creaked open and Bobby peeked in. Seeing I was awake, he came fully into the room. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I had nothing to do with this, I swear. It’s all his idea. I was trying to sell some photos and a story about an alien I saw on the beach. I posted it on the internet and he contacted me a few days ago. He flew me out here yesterday.”

  “Come closer to me,” I whispered to him. “Is he still here?” I spoke softly, trying to draw him in.

  Bobby warily approached the side of the bed. “He left a few minutes ago. I’m supposed to watch and shoot you if you try to get away. I don’t want to do that.”

  “He said you wanted to dissect me.” I tried to calm my anger, hoping to influence him. I didn’t want to cloud my efforts with wrath. “Will you untie my legs, please?” I asked. “They’re hurting pretty bad.”

  “Uh, I don’t know if I should,” he said, walking to the side of the bed. “I’m sorry to have gotten you into this. The photos I posted of you went viral and when he contacted me, he said he had seen you too. I lied and told him I also had a video I was going to sell to the highest bidder. He said he had a plan to capture you and if I sold him my video, he’d let me help in the dissection. I thought… you were a monster and I’d get rich and famous overnight. Now, I see… you’re a person. I ain’t no murderer.”

  “I… understand. It’s okay, David is very manipulative.” I spoke calmly. “If you untie me and let me go, I’ll lie to the police about you. I’ll… tell them you helped me, you were my hero.”

  Bobby hesitated, but then untied my legs. “That feels so much better,” I winced as I rotated my sore feet. “May I have some water?” Calmly, I tried to stay as composed as possible. Maybe if I could reinforce to him I was indeed a real person, and play on his sympathy, he would release me.

  “Of course.” Bobby disappeared into the ensuite bathroom and returned with a tumbler of water.

  “I can’t drink with my hands still in these cuffs. Can you take them off?”

  “I don’t know where the keys are,” he stuttered, seeming to lose his nerve.

  Warmth, and confidence, I pushed emotions to him. “Maybe look around here for them? They can’t be far. Possibly on the bedside table or in the drawer?” Stay calm, be cool, don’t get hysterical—that never works.

  He searched the bedside table. “No, nothing here.”

  “Can you look around, maybe in the bathroom, for something to pick the locks?”

 
After searching the bathroom, he came back with nothing so he left the room and went downstairs. A few minutes later, he returned with keys. “If I let you go, you’re not going to hurt me or call the police, right? I don’t want to get in trouble with the cops.”

  “No, I won’t hurt you—I’m not a violent person. And no cops. Do you still have the photos?” I asked casually, as he unlocked the handcuffs and I brought my arms down, rubbing my bloody wrists.

  “Yes ma’am, I do.”

  “Can I have them? I’ll buy them from you. I’ll give you more than David ever could.” I took the water from him, gulped, and then fought a wave of nausea—the water tasted disgusting. But better than nothing in my condition. My clothes hung over the chair at the foot of the bed. I got up to go get them, but stumbled from a head rush.

  Bobby caught me, and then helped me dress. “They’re on the internet now. Millions have seen them.”

  Damn. “Can I buy your silence then… about what happened here?”

  He glanced away and then back to me. “Can I ask you, ma’am, what are you?”

  “I have a different kind of skin. It’s a hereditary defect.”

  “I don’t believe you, but I take it you don’t want to tell me.”

  “Right.” I wouldn’t have believed me either, but at least he didn’t keep asking. “Can you get me some more water?” As horrible as it tasted, I was in danger of passing out from dehydration.

  “Sure.”

  Roman’s knife was no longer on the nightstand. My purse wasn’t in here either. Damn.

  I quickly drank down the water he returned with. “When will he be back?”

  “Soon, we gotta hurry.”

  “Help me downstairs,” I said and leaned on him. “Have you seen a purse?”

  “You’ll find some things in his office, downstairs.” He guided me there.

  On David’s desk was my purse and a small box. I hobbled over without Bobby’s help and searched my purse, but it was empty. Damn, he took the daggers and all the money.

  “I can get you money, but I have to go back to another house to get more. Do you have a car here?”