Featherlight (2 page)

It was a gallant gesture, but I was guessing that he wasn’t aware of
my past chemo sessions. He didn’t know that those fingers of his were going to
leave large bruises on my arms, and he wasn’t aware that I could easily die
from an infection because my body was so terribly weak. I would have to worry
about all of those complications later.

My glasses had fallen off and had landed a few feet away. When I began
to kick and scream at the top of my lungs, he released me.
This is it
, I
thought. I was
not
going down without a fight.

My right hand searched for a large rock. Finally! I wrapped my gloved
fingers around it, but just as I was bringing it up to smash against his face,
he leapt off me. He moved so quickly, my mind was still trying to figure out what
was going on while my instincts had me scrambling backwards, to the house, to
safety. I glanced at his face, which was full of confusion.

My lungs were screaming and my stomach was rolling with sickness, but
I ignored everything to jump back on my feet and sprint the remaining distance
to my house. Before I was even halfway there I noticed the blurry form of my
aunt standing on the porch. God bless her soul. Linda was here to check on me,
and she must have heard the commotion. Right now I couldn’t have been happier.
I ran up to her while yelling at her to help me. This guy was after me. Get a
gun! Help me!

 She stood there, glaring. When I skidded to a halt next to her, I
turned around and saw the stranger staring at us, his face holding a hint of
confusion.

The stranger spoke first. “Is she yours, Winters?” he asked Linda.

As the fear started to fade away, I began to get angry. How did he
know our last name? Was this man my aunt’s past lover? Did he want to know if
she had a child? Was I the victim of some long-lost jealous hatred towards my
aunt?

With the rock in my hand, and Linda at my back, I headed to this
attacker. Feeling a bit braver than I was earlier might have turned out to be a
bad thing.

“I am
no one’s!
I can’t believe ya think you can just-” but
before I could get anything else out, I was hauled over Linda’s shoulder and
carried into the house like a sack of potatoes.

It didn’t surprise me that someone could pick me up like that, but my
aunt was quite strong. It also must have helped that I weighed around a
whoppin’ 85 pounds thanks to my chemo-induced loss of appetite.

I was still fuming and weak as she sat me down in the middle of the
living room. Did she not realize that this was so dangerous? Did she not
realize that I would be blue with bruises tomorrow and sick with infections?

The stranger had followed us inside, and since she wasn’t set on
driving him away at gunpoint, I was even angrier. Usually I didn’t have such a
temper, but I’ve also never been tackled by a man who was stalking me in the
woods. I think my anger was justified. I reigned in some more energy to face
the current situation.

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked, looking from my aunt to this strange man. I
needed to figure out what was happening. Why was this man in our home? Why
wasn’t Linda protecting me?

I felt betrayed. My aunt looked ten years older and both of them
remained silent. After snagging my spare glasses off of the table, I glanced
outside. It was almost dark.

The man spoke, “She’s not your child because you are a human. I can
smell her, and she is New.”

He took a step closer to me, looking quite possessive. I took a step
back. He also had a slight accent, one I couldn’t place. What did he mean by
New? Did he mean I was young?

“She is different,” he took a deep breath and continued, “Amazing.
Beautiful.” He took another step toward me. I took another step back. What was
going on? Someone get the creepy old guy away from me.

Suddenly, he stopped and stared at me. His brown eyes widened.

“That smell,” he whispered, and my aunt groaned.

What, did I stink? I sniffed my arm discreetly.

He turned to her and asked, “Did you know?”

Linda nodded her head. The stranger was shocked as he pulled out a
cell phone and began dialing.

“No!” Linda yelled, “Don’ take her!”

As far as I could tell, I wasn’t going anywhere.

When she saw he wasn’t going to stop dialing, she made me face her and
whispered, “Do you trust me?”

After a quick mental battle, I nodded. Not protecting me fully was
only one bad mark against her, and she had been there for me for 19 years.

She continued, “When they take you, remember how you were raised.
Remember your beliefs. These people won’t hurt you; you are something special
to them.” I had wanted her to reassure me, to tell me everything was going to
be okay. Instead this sounded like a goodbye.

“What are you talking about, Linda?”

The strange man in our living room began softly talking into the
phone. He snapped it shut. My aunt was beginning to scare me, but she kept
telling me, “Remember your mother and I.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere! What is happening? Get him out of here!” I
was nearly hysterical. Deep breaths.

The guy in our living room jerked his head around and stared at Linda.
“She doesn’t know?”

His frustrated voice demanded an answer. Linda began shaking her head
back and forth furiously. She looked to be on the brink of tears.

I asked her, “I don’t know what?”

My aunt didn’t answer me, so I turned to the man. He answered, “The
one you call your mother isn’t your biological mother, and that isn’t your
biological aunt.”

“What?” I whispered. I wouldn’t have believed him, but my aunt’s face
said it all. I’ve never seen her look so defeated, so utterly helpless.

“Tell me he’s lying. Tell me, Linda.”

She never replied, and the silence became deafening. It didn’t make a
difference if she wasn’t my real aunt, because she was the one who had raised
me. What did make a difference was them not telling me.

“Is it true?” I asked my aunt. My voice was hoarse and hurt, my Texan
accent slipping into my words.

“I’m so sorry,” she told me, truly crying now.

 “They are on their way,” the man announced, as if I wasn’t about to
have the biggest break-down of my life in the middle of my living room.

“By the way, I am Henry,” he stuck his hand out. I glared at it. If he
hadn’t come around spilling secrets like he owned the place, I wouldn’t be in
this mess.

Henry gracefully dropped his hand and told me, “I can understand your
wariness of me, since you do not know our ways. We are going to take you to
your people. Where you belong.” He delivered a careful grin with this last
statement, like I should be thanking him profusely.

I stifled the urge to stomp on his foot. He must be delusional, even
though he didn’t look it. Now that I had time to examine him, I saw that he was
wearing a black shirt, jeans, and a long jacket. Standing at about 6 feet and 5
inches, he towered over me.

I decided I had better take control of the situation, since it
appeared my aunt was out of commission for the moment. Even though it was hard
to demand a person more than two feet taller than you to do something, I gave
it my best shot.

Raising my head, I told Henry, “Get out of my house.”

As he took a breath to say something, I yelled, “Out!”

Just then, I thought of the gun we had stashed behind the bookcase. So
very thankful for the second amendment, I looked quickly to my right. My leg
was by the gun, just within reach. Henry looked to see what I glanced at and
saw the end of the gun sticking out of the back of the bookcase, next to the
window. I lunged for the gun, and he lunged for me.

Luckily I was closer, so I reached it first. Clicking the safety off,
I swung the gun up in one smooth movement and pointed it straight at his chest.
He froze. Good. He knew I meant business.

The wood and metal felt safe and reassuring in my hands. Being my
aunt’s, it was only a .410 shotgun, but would still do the trick. I had been in
shooting competitions since I was ten years old (one of the many benefits of
living in Texas and within walking distance of a shooting range). Yep, I knew
what I was doing.

 My aunt stood like a statue, not making a sound. Suddenly, as if
things just couldn’t get any better, someone knocked on the door.

“In here,” Henry said, barely moving his mouth and lifting his arms up
with his palms facing me. A man opened the door and stepped inside, assessing
the situation in the space of a heartbeat. He was tall, broad shouldered, and
looked to be a little younger than Henry, but not by much.

Another man walked in after him, with a medium height and build and
dark hair. They both had surprised looks on their faces, until they took a deep
breath and curiously looked at me. The dark-haired man looked smug. The taller
of the men looked possessive, a look I was getting tired of seeing. I think
I’ve had enough possessive looks to last a lifetime.

Besides, older men weren’t my type. Actually, no man was my type, so
these guys were going to be sorely disappointed. And, technically, late forties
aren’t that old. Heck, my mom was almost forty. But for some reason when a man
the same age as your father is looking at you with interest, they were suddenly
ancient. Both eyed the gun in my hands warily, which I had turned to point at
them. My aunt was still standing motionless, having a breakdown of her own.
Perfect
timing
, I thought sarcastically.

“Listen, how about you put the gun down, and we can have a nice chat?”
The dark-haired one asked condescendingly.

I replied, “How about you get out of my house and leave me the hell
alone?”

They both narrowed their eyes. I could see Henry out of the corner of
my eye, sneaking closer to make a grab for the gun.

“Sweetheart, you don’t know how to use one of those, so just set it down
before someone gets hurt,” the tall man said.

I don’t know who he thought he was, calling me ‘sweetheart’ and
telling me I don’t know how to use a gun. When Henry was about eight feet away
I pumped then gun and swung it around to face him. He froze. Just then, more
people arrived in the living room. It was starting to get
really
crowded
in here.

Suddenly, someone jumped through the open window behind me and landed
on my back, pinning me to the ground once again. What a great idea, tackle the
girl holding a loaded gun.

I was granted an up-close of the carpet. How stupid I had been to not
realize the window was open. Although, in my defense, a person jumping through
the window was not expected in the least.

The gun was somehow ripped out of my hands before I fell. Even though
I tried to break out of this person’s hold, I knew I was stuck. A slight pain registered
on my neck and I began to feel fuzzy. I finally freed one of my hands from my
enemy’s death grip and reached around to touch my neck. The pain was from being
stuck by small syringe, and I yanked it out. Too late, whatever was in there
had emptied into my body.

 I turned to get a good look at these men who had invaded my home,
scared me half to death, stuck me with an unknown liquid, (which I was
beginning to suspect was a sleeping drug) and disrupted my quiet, peaceful
life. My vision began to gray at the edges, and my ears began ringing.

I was at the mercy of these men while I was unconscious. The thought
chilled me. There were ten pairs of feet that I could see from my awkward
position. The men were standing there, looking triumphant and amazed. The
beasts. I loathed them. If they touched me, they would all die.

As my hate began to build my vision cleared, and my hearing slowly
returned. Jacqueline Winters was not the type of girl to lay on the floor,
helpless.

One of the men yelled, “She needs another dose, her body’s resisting
the drug!”

A man was still pinning me to the ground. I threw him off me, with a
sudden strength I didn’t know I had. Not stopping to think about how a featherlight
girl overpowered a large man, I stood up and planted my feet, ready to fight or
flee.

It was utter chaos after that. I think I was hallucinating, because it
appeared as though some of the people were sprouting wings. I was stuck in the
arm and back with something, probably more stupid syringes.

 I charged out the front door, fortunately clear of men, and let my fleeing
instincts take over. I tried running faster, but my vision was going away
again, slowly this time. I risked a glance behind me and saw three of the men
not ten feet behind me, giving chase. When I turned back around, two men were
standing in my path, slowly eyeing me.

“She won’t last long,” one of them called to the guys behind me.

I was starting to sway. My ears began to ring again. I willed my body
to move, to run, but it wouldn’t listen.

 I saw a woman approaching. Finally, not another man! I was glad to
see her, even if she was my enemy. She wouldn’t let anything happen to me,
right? I started to fall, but couldn’t really tell, since I didn’t feel myself
fall. I just saw the world spinning, and then breathed a deep sigh of sadness.
Who were these people? The woman crouched beside me, anger and concern lining
her features.