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Thankfully, she and Jessie no longer shared a room, having found a flex one-bedroom that could be converted into a two-bedroom apartment for a reasonable (for NYC) rate of only $2,380. Having her own room meant a degree of freedom and privacy that was very nice in situations like this.
Turning on her bedside lamp, Mia looked around the room, making sure that the door to her bedroom was fully closed. Reaching into her bedside drawer, she took out a small package that was normally hidden all the way in the back of the drawer behind her face cream, hand lotion, and a bottle of Advil. Carefully unwrapping the bundle, she took out the tiny rabbit-ears vibrator that had been a gag
gift from her older sister. Marisa had given it to her for high school graduation with the joking admonition to use it whenever she “felt the urge” and “to stay away from those horny college boys in the big city.” Mia had blushed and laughed at the time, but the thing had actually proven handy. At certain times in the dark of the night, when her loneliness became more acute, Mia played with the device, gradually exploring her body and learning what a real orgasm felt like.
Pressing the small object to the sensitive nub between her legs, Mia closed her eyes and relived the sensations brought on by her dream. Gradually increasing the speed of vibration on the toy, she let her imagination soar, picturing the K’s hands on her body and his lips kissing her, stroking her, touching her in sensitive and forbidden places, until the ball of tension deep within her belly got even tighter and exploded, sending tingly warmth all the way to her toes.
* * *
The next morning, Mia woke up to a grey and overcast sky. Reaching for the phone to check the weather, she groaned. Ninety percent chance of rain with temperature in the mid-forties. Just what she needed when her Sociology paper awaited. Oh well, maybe she would make it to the library before the rain starts.
Jumping out of bed, she pulled on her comfiest pair of sweats, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a big hooded sweater she got on a high-school trip to Europe. It was her studying/paper-writing outfit, and it looked just as ugly today as it had the first time she’d worn it while cramming for her algebra test in tenth grade. The clothes fit her about the same now too, as she seemed to have developed a disgusting inability to gain inches either in girth or height since the age of fourteen.
Hastily brushing her teeth and washing her face, Mia stared critically in the mirror. A pale, slightly freckled face looked back at her. Her eyes were probably her best feature, an unusual shade of blue-grey that contrasted nicely with her dark hair. Her hair, on the other hand, was a whole different animal. If she spent an hour carefully blowdrying it with a diffuser, then she could maybe get her corkscrew curls to resemble something civilized. Her normal routine of going to sleep with it wet, however, was not conducive to anything but the frizzy mess she had on her head right now. Letting out a deep sigh, she ruthlessly pulled it back into a thick ponytail. Some day soon, when she had a real job, she might go to one of those expensive salons and try to get a straightening treatment. For now, since she didn’t have an hour each morning to waste on her hair, Mia figured she just had to live with it.
Library time. Grabbing her backpack and her laptop, Mia pulled on her Uggs and headed out of the apartment. Five flights of stairs later, she exited her building, paying little attention to the peeling paint on the walls and the occasional cockroach that liked to live near the garbage chute. Such was student life in NYC, and Mia was one of the lucky ones to have a semi-affordable apartment so close to campus.
Real estate prices in Manhattan were as high as they’d ever been. In the first couple of years after the invasion, apartment prices in New York had cratered, just as they had in all the major cities around the world. With the hokey invasion movies still ruling the public’s imagination, most people figured that cities would be unsafe and departed for rural areas if they could. Families with children – already a rare commodity in Manhattan – left the city in droves, heading for the most remote areas they could find. The Ks had encouraged the migration, as it relieved the worst of the pollution in and around urban areas. Of course, people soon realized their folly, since the Ks wanted nothing to do with the major human cities and instead chose to build their Centers in warm, sparsely populated areas around the globe. Manhattan prices skyrocketed again, with a few lucky people making fortunes on the real estate bargains they’d picked up in the crash. Now, more than five years after K-Day – as the first day of the Krinar invasion came to be called – New York City rents were again testing record highs.
Lucky me, Mia thought with mild irritation. If only she’d been a couple of years older, she could’ve rented her current apartment for less than half the price. Of course, there was something to be said for graduating next year, instead of in the depths of the Great Panic – the dark months after Earth first faced the invaders.
Stopping by the local deli, Mia ordered a lightly toasted bagel (whole-grain, of course, the only kind available) with an avocado-tomato spread. Sighing, she remembered the delicious omelets her mom used to make, with crumbled bacon, mushrooms, and cheese. Nowadays, mushroom was the only ingredient on that list that was in any way affordable for a college student. Meat, fish, eggs, and dairy were premium products, available only as an occasional treat – the way foie gras and caviar used to be. That was one of the main changes that the Krinar had implemented. Having decided that the typical developed-world diet of the early twenty-first century was harmful both to humans and their environment, they shut down the major industrial farms, forcing meat and dairy producers to switch to growing fruits and vegetables. Only small farmers were left in peace and allowed to grow a few farm animals for special occasions. Environmental and animal-rights organizations had been ecstatic, and obesity rates in America were quickly approaching Vietnam’s. Of course, the fallout had been huge, with numerous companies going out of business and food shortages during the Great Panic. And later on, when the Krinar’s vampiric tendencies were discovered (though still not officially proven), the Far Right activists had claimed that the real reason for the forced change in diet was that it made the human blood taste sweeter to the Ks. Be that as it may, the majority of the food that was available and affordable now was disgustingly healthy.
“Umbrella, umbrella, umbrella!” A scruffy-looking man stood on the corner, hawking his wares in a strong Middle Eastern accent. “Five-dollar umbrella!”
Sure enough, less than a minute later, a light drizzle began. For the umpteenth time, Mia wondered if the street umbrella vendors had some kind of sixth sense about rain. They always seemed to appear right before the first drop fell, even if there was no rain in the forecast. As tempting as it was to buy an umbrella to stay dry, Mia only had a few blocks left to go and the rain was too light to justify an unnecessary expenditure of five dollars. She could’ve brought her old umbrella from home, but carrying an extra object was never high on her list of priorities.
Walking as fast as she could while lugging her heavy bag, Mia turned the corner on West 4th Street, with the Bobst Library already in sight, when the downpour began. Crap, she should’ve bought that umbrella! Mentally kicking herself, Mia broke into a run – or rather a jog, given the backpack weighing her down – as raindrops pelted her face with the force of water bullets. Her hair somehow managed to escape from the ponytail, and was in her face, blocking her vision. A bunch of people rushed past her, hurrying to get out of the rain, and Mia was pushed a few times by pedestrians blinded by the combination of heavy rain and umbrellas held by more fortunate souls. At times like this, being 5’3” and barely a hundred pounds was a severe disadvantage. A big man brushed past her, his elbow bumping into her shoulder, and Mia stumbled, her foot catching on a crack in the sidewalk. Pitching forward, she managed to catch herself with her hands on wet pavement, sliding a few inches on the rough surface.
All of a sudden, strong hands lifted her from the ground, as though she weighed nothing, standing her upright under a large umbrella that the man held over both of their heads.
Feeling like a dirty, drowned rat, Mia tried to brush her sodden hair off her face with the back of one scraped hand, while blinking the remnants of rain out of her eyes. Her nose decided to add to her humiliation, choosing that particular moment to let loose with an uncontrollable sneeze all over her rescuer.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Mia frantically apologized in utter mortification. Her vision still blurry from the water running down her face, she desperately tried to wipe her nose with a wet sleeve to prevent another sneeze. “So sorry, I didn’t mean to sneeze on you like that!”
“No apologies necessary, Mia. Obviously, you got cold and wet. And i
njured. Let me see your hands.”
This could not be happening. Her discomfort forgotten, all Mia could do was stare in disbelief as Korum carefully lifted her wrists palms-up and examined her scrapes. His large hands were unbelievably gentle on her skin, even as they held her in an inescapable grip. Although she was soaked to the skin in chilly mid-April weather, Mia felt like she was about to burst into flames, his touch sending a wave of heat rushing through her body.
“You should get those injuries treated immediately. They could scar if you’re not careful. Here, come with me, and we’ll get them taken care of.” Releasing her wrists, Korum put a proprietary arm around her waist and began shepherding her back toward Broadway.
“Wait, what –” Mia tried to recover her wits. “What are you doing here? Where are you leading me?” The full danger of the situation was just now beginning to hit home, and she began to shiver from a combination of cold and fear.
“You’re obviously freezing. I’m getting you out of this rain, and then we’ll talk.” His tone brooked no disagreement.
Desperately looking around, all Mia saw were people rushing to get out of the pouring rain, not paying any attention to their surroundings. In weather like this, a murder in the middle of the street was likely to go unnoticed, much less the struggles of one small girl. Korum’s arm was like a steel band around her waist, completely unmovable, and Mia found herself helplessly going along in whichever direction he was leading her.
“Wait, please, I really can’t go with you,” Mia protested shakily. Grasping at straws, she blurted out, “I have a paper to write!”
“Oh really? And you’re going to write it in this condition?” His tone dripping with sarcasm, Korum gave her a disparaging once-over, lingering on her dripping hair and scraped hands. “You’re hurt, and you’re probably going to catch pneumonia – with that puny immune system you’ve got.”
As before, he somehow managed to get a rise out of her. How dare he call her puny! Mia saw red. “Excuse me, my immune system is just fine! Nobody catches pneumonia from getting stuck in the rain these days! Besides, what concern is it of yours? What are you doing here, stalking me?”
“That’s right.” His reply was smooth and completely nonchalant.
Her temper immediately cooling, Mia felt tendrils of fear snaking through her again. Swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry throat, she could only croak out one word. “W-Why?”
