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One of them laughs. A slight chuckle that is quickly cut off and treated as a mistake. “How can you laugh at a time like this?” I wonder aloud.
"We will never be free," she says.
An alien with bright, gold eyes shakes her head. Tears run down her cheeks. The slavers have treated these women like cattle. For how long, I do not know. Could have been years. Decades.
These Syndicate scum-buckets use the women as bartering chips. They toss them into every club in the city sectors. And if one doesn't satisfy the needs of their alien master, they are eligible for a bolt through the brain like a swin
e before the slaughter.
Maybe Clara was right. Maybe they are savages.
Another woman lunges forward. Her eyes are red from exhaustion and sickness, but her hatred startles me. I fall back.
When I hit the ground, she stands over me, pointing her finger like a weapon. "It's your people who have wronged us... you let this happen."
“Me? I'm here to protect you," I say.
"You shouldn't be here. He'll take you, too," another whispers. "Go. Run while you still have time."
The rain washes over my eyes, and my adrenaline kicks into overdrive. Mixed with fear, I become a total mess.
I hit my radio. "Command, do you register my coordinates?"
Clara's voice. "I can see everything, and we've got eyes in the trees backing us up. They're standing by. No visual confirmation of the slavers.”
I step back, but the mud is thick. I slip and hit my hip on the earth. The women laugh and scatter as I scramble onto my feet, hands glued to my shock gun.
"No, you can't leave. You must be processed," I say.
They disappear into the fog.
I spin and try to get a read on the area. No outside movement registered.
"Keep your breathing steady, soldier," Clara says. "It's okay. Everything is all right."
I am shaking, but why? Is it because I know the slavers are here? Waiting in the forest. Watching me squirm like a trapped weasel in a cage.
I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to face the unknown. Clara was wrong. They were all wrong.
I just want to go back.
But I can't.
One woman points. "In there," she whispers. "He is hiding in the trees."
I stumble and try to find the way I entered, but there's no clear path forward. I step through the thick leaves, weaving in and out of orchids and vine. I walk until the women are out of view, and the air is silent once more.
My breath is calm, but tears roll down my cheeks. I sniff and suck in my lip. I try to stop shaking. I can take a lot of things, but seeing the women is difficult.
As I hit the trees, I slow and turn my night vision on. The trees are giants, meant to guard over the jungle. Their branches span out into the skyline, allowing alpha rebels of all sorts to hide.
"They could be anywhere," I whisper.
And suddenly, I get it. I understand why it's so fucking silent.
They are here. They are watching me. I am not the one hunting them.
They are hunting me.
