Human Interaction (7 page)

With a sigh, I made a big show of taking deep breaths of oxygen-rich air while scanning the surroundings. No land in sight, yet.

Little Mole started in with the scolding and hurrying once again. My breathing time seemed to be up. Too few seconds later, his arm returned with another pull, dragging me back down into the depths of the ship.

A few minutes later, he roughly shoved me back through the one portal to our cell. The short dark man with the goatee jabbered some more, adding in another gesture or two, then slammed the door shut.

"Yeah. Mean freaky person to you, too!"

I glanced to the back of the room where Meat and Ducky sat side by side, their gazes fixed on me.

"All better?" Meat inquired.

"Oh, yeah. You have no idea." I gave the door a small kick in frustration then sauntered back to the wall. "Happen to know what he called me?"

Ducky spoke up. "Demanding bitch."

"That's it. Little Mole is gonna get it next time I see him." I huffed as I sat down on the right side of Meat, away from Ducky.

In complete honesty, my bravery waned. I would like nothing more than to climb on Meat's lap, curl up, and say "Beam me up, Scotty." Oh, I guess Ducky could come, too. If he promised to be nice.

Meat nudged me with his shoulder. "What did you learn?"

I closed my eyes and pictured the places I'd just visited, telling them about rooms, people, and the exit door to the back of the deck.

Ducky sighed in a bored fashion. "Nothing useful."

I sat up from my slump. "Excuse me? It's more than you guys have."

"Yeah, but we're along for the ride, Princess, not trying to escape off the boat."

Oh, yeah. How could I forget Shy's Last Stand?

My brain clicked. All I needed was ruby slippers. Had the lion… errr… liger. Had the scary… scarecrow vampy. "Ligers, vampys, and kidnappers. Oh, my."

They both turned to stare at me like I had turned green and grew horns. Okay, so I did pat my head to make sure horns really didn't pop out. But, I certainly hadn't turned green.

"What?" I stared back at them.

"Dim, you called her?"

Meat nodded.

"I lean more toward lackwit, myself." Ducky added in a loud whisper. Loud enough to make sure I would hear, that is.

CHAPTER 5

"Off boat!"

A sharp, heavily accented voice rudely woke me from my nap. That voice knew only one level, very loud.

"Off boat!"

I glared at the intruder, a bit taller and thinner than Little Mole.

Ducky and Meat stood slowly, obviously a bit stiff from the steel beds we had been forced to utilize. I followed, less than enthusiastic. Both marched slowly toward the man.

The annoying kidnapper kept yapping away in the same tone and gesturing with his hand, as if on some strict time schedule.

"Aren't you getting hungry?" I poked Ducky.

He glanced down in my direction then back at the man. "Yeah. I should have eaten you when I considered it."

"Hey!" Stumbling over, I headed straight for the door, pausing momentarily to lecture our captor. "Listen, buster. I'm tired, I'm hot, and I'm cranky. You woke me up from a nice nap with yelling. You now hold the low position on my totem pole."

He shoved me hard out the door and into the hallway.

"Slime worm." Childish, but I felt better.

A few minutes later, we hastily paraded from the boat to a nearby warehouse. The building looked like it had seen many better days. In fact, I would almost bet any strong wind would push it right on over. Pitch dark met us as we traveled up and out of the hold of the ship. Lucky Ducky. He wouldn't morph into a crispy critter today.

Slime Worm opened the door, gesturing for us to enter. Little Mole, at our backs, gave a bit of encouragement with the barrel of his automatic gun.

Peeking in the door, I saw a flash of tiny movement scurry for shelter. Oh, I don't think so. Planting my feet, I refused to go another step. "There are mice in there!" I pointed in the direction the rodent had taken.

Wormy spat more gibberish my way and gestured some more.

"Oh, no. There are mice and probably rats in there. Big rats." I spread my arms wide indicating how big those might be. "Not to mention bugs and roaches.
Ewwwwww
! I hate roaches. Nasty things."

The captors spoke to one another and made more hand motions. As they didn't seem to be sympathetic to my plight, I decided further explanations were in order. "Rats carry fleas and bugs. Where do you think the Black Plague came from? Being a valuable slave, you wouldn't want me to die from the plague, now would you?" I straightened my back and stood tall as physically possible. "Or worse. We could get bug bites. They would get infected. Who would want to buy a slave with big old skin sores that are draining and oozing icky stuff?"

Wormy gave a snarl and yanked me inside. He either didn't understand the language or he figured we would be sold before our skin peeled off.

Meat and Ducky were led away in the opposite direction. With the dim lighting, their bodies quickly disappeared into the shadows. I dragged my feet once more. Not that Ducky and I were quite friends, but at least he spoke English and hadn't eaten me yet. Those simple facts spoke of pre-friendship, and pre-friends didn't let bad things happen to one another.

Something crunched under my feet as I took a few small, tentative steps, refusing to look down.
Nope. Don't want to think about what I'm squishing.
Better I squish them than they eat me. I decided leftover carcasses of hollowed out bugs and perhaps old pellets of rat poop covered the floor and made the crackling sounds with each step I took. Maybe I should ignore the nasty accommodations for now and just concentrate on how to unman kidnapper one and get teleporting away before some humongous rat sighted me for dinner.

The men half-herded and half-dragged me to a smaller room on the western corner of the dilapidated building. One mighty sneeze and I just knew that whole place would bury us alive. Buried alive versus slavery. I think I would rather stick with getting eaten by a hungry vampire. Less painful, quicker, and I could easily give him a belly ache from hell.

The door to the room opened. Inside sat two women, ragged and dirty. They looked up at my presence with expressions of weary curiosity combined with terror.

Wormy gave me a last shove, sending me crashing into the other two. "Hey! You're going to damage the goods!"

The door slammed shut in answer.

Sitting up, I dusted my hands off, looking over the women. "Hi. I'm Shy." Both appeared grungy, their clothing so dusty the once vibrant colors muted into a muddy brown.

The brunette met my look. Her eyes held fear and resignation. "I'm Mae."

The platinum blonde to her right barely made eye contact before looking to the decomposing wooden plank floor once more. She curled into herself and a fine tremor shook her frail body.

Mae spoke up. "This is Sam. She's been here a couple of weeks."

I nodded, not sure what to say to the obviously traumatized woman. "How long have you been here?"

"A little over a week." Mae patted Sam's shoulder then gave her a hug. The bigger boned Mae looked in better shape. Disheveled, bruised and thin, she appeared to be faring modestly for the circumstances.

The room held no furniture, bare except for a couple of holey blankets and a tiny window complete with bars well above our heads. The door proved the only reliable avenue of escape with captors probably waiting just on the other side.

Chewing my lip, I debated if I wanted to voice the question running through my head. "What are they going to do with us?"

Mae looked over at Sam, and then her attention returned to me. "Best we can figure, they're holding us until they find a buyer. A man came in a couple of days ago, looked us over, then left." She rubbed her thumb across her hand nervously. "I knew that was the end of the line for us. But, for some reason, we stayed here."

A small voice piped in. "I'm afraid if we leave here, we'll never be found alive."

I sighed. Certainly not acceptable. Where was Meat anyway? We found the others. He planned out our escape to the detail while in the ship. So, what's taking so long? The longer I sat, the more I thought about giant rats gnawing on my leg at night. Icky. No telling what other horrors these girls faced each evening. While waiting, I could at least rally them, stoke a coal of hope.

I leaned in to whisper, "We're going to get out of here. Escape."

Both women shook their heads. "We've tried. Anything and everything we could think of. There is no escape."

Sam seemed to pull back inside herself. Shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Yes, but we have allies this time."

Mae looked up, a tiny shimmer of hope crossed her face. "Allies?"

I nodded. "Friends. They're going to help us. We just have to be ready to go at a moment's notice."

More doors opening and shutting broke into the conversation. We three sat against the far wall, watching the only exit, like cornered animals. Lost in thought, we waited for the next boot to drop.

The door swung open allowing our captors to enter. A third man followed, tall, sandy-haired, and European looking with cropped light hair resting on the brim of his collar. What appeared to be expensive leather shoes carried a thick coating of dust. His suit shouted of wealth, even as his face and eyes spoke of absolute evil. His pinched facial features and beady eyes reminded me of a weasel. Sneaky and dangerous.

He stepped closer, surveying all three of us. Speaking softly to the others, he gestured alternately to each. They responded to each question easily.

As he moved closer to me, I felt the hairs on my neck stand up. I'd seen my fair share of evil beings. Not as many as some, but more than enough for my tastes. This guy stood at the top of the list. I could feel the waves of darkness radiating off his body. Powerful and unholy. Never a good combination.

To my absolute horror, he reached down, grabbed my arm, and yanked me up. Pulling back, I struggled. To go with him meant the end that would come… eventually. Unknown horrors would fill those days until one begged for the blessing of death.

His dark eyes met mine, compelling me to still and gasp for breath. I could see my short future and it wasn't pretty. "Let me go!" I tugged on my arm once more.

He sneered down at me from his one foot height advantage. If anything, his grip tightened.

That was it. Ever have that feeling of rage when the hormones are at their peak? One little thing makes you snap and you feel this overwhelming urge to kick, claw, beat something into submission. If I were in my car, I would gladly run this guy over, back up, and smash him again. Instead, I stomped his toe and kicked him in the shin. Did I feel better? Sort of. Until the slap rang my bell enough for me to rethink any future outbursts.

Furiously, I tried to jumpstart my blank mind back into action. We were leaving the small room, Evil Weasel dragging me along with a death grip on my upper arm. I knew if I slid into the car, I would become a statistic on the evening news. I could poof, but, if he touched me at the time, he would just be taken along for the ride, which pretty much defeated the purpose.

Think. Think. What would the Lone Ranger do in situations like these? Errol Flynn? Heck, I would take Oscar the Grouch at this moment.

Time ran out as we paused at another small room inside the warehouse. Weasel went in first, dragging me behind. The foreign language speaking captors remained outside.

I shook loose and stepped back a few paces, putting a rickety desk between us. The tall sandy-haired man just smirked. A truly unsettling expression that said he loved a challenge and would ensure I suffered for all my disobedience as he saw fit.

"Who are you?"

"No one you should know." The low voice sent shivers down my spine. The accent, I couldn't quite place but leaned toward maybe Caribbean.

"What are you going to do to me?" After the words left my mouth, I wished them back. The look on his face told it all. I started backpedaling immediately.

"I enjoy the spirited ones. Much more entertaining."

"Yeah, well…" I searched for something, anything, to stall. "You must have a tiny pee-pee if this is the only way you can get a woman."
That would tell him.

His throaty laugh belied my confidence.

Think of something else, fast
. I shifted weight like a baseball player preparing to steal second base.

He prowled closer. I side-stepped, determined to keep the wooden obstacle between us. He lunged left, twisted, and sped right.

A powerful hand grabbed my braided hair, just as I shifted to outmaneuver him. A yank had me in his grasp, my back slammed against the unforgiving wall. Struggling and kicking, I worked to break free.

His right hand pulled my left arm behind my back, higher and higher until I yelped from the pain. The other hand went to my throat, squeezing ever harder. I now knew how Custer felt right before losing his hair.

A great roar broke through the film of ever-increasing blackness. The bursting door forced my eyes back open. A blur zipped across the room, easily pulling Weasel off me, while shoving me aside.

I focused on catching my breath, as I stumbled to the far corner, staying well away from the action.

My gaze locked onto the violence before me. Like a horrid car crash, I didn't want to look but couldn't help myself. The sandy-headed Weasel wrestled with the slightly taller Ducky. Growls, grunts, and curse words followed. In mere seconds, the vampire grabbed the upper hand, tilted the man's neck, and sank his fangs in deep.

I gasped, blinked, and still couldn't turn my head. Never before had I seen the violence of a vampire drinking in fury. I never wanted to again. In fact, nightmares were certain to linger for all the remaining years of my life.

Blood taking was necessary. Vampys needed to eat, right? It's not like they had a choice of what to sup for dinner. And, most of them didn't kill. I chose to believe in vampires dining as nature intended, snacking from their chosen prey and walking away. Never had I envisioned this act of brutal violence.