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What would they do with me if they thought I knew the truth? Did they even believe my story earlier? Would they have records? Would they know I should be under some alien master’s thumb somewhere?
I couldn’t take that risk. I couldn’t wait for them to do whatever they wanted with me.
Especially since nobody knew I was here.
What if I called the feds? Would they listen to me? Would they send officers? And how long would it take for them to arrive? And what if they were Changelings too?
No. That was too much of a conspiracy theory.
I noticed movement out the corner of my eye. Two figures—two cops—marched through the revelers, peering around for someone.
Me.
I turned my back on them.
They were looking for me. And they were going to find me.
I needed backup. I needed help.
I turned to the nearest table of partiers. There were five of them. All girls—of course. I fell into an empty seat and waited for the cops to pass.
“Can we help you?” a raven-haired beauty said. She slurred her words.
I watched the cops’ fleeing backs. I’d avoided them.
This time.
“No,” I said. “No, you can’t help me. I… sat at the wrong table.”
The girls burst into laughter as I hustled away. Then I paused. The only people in this whole stinking place that were human were the people who came here to party.
Those were the people that needed to help me.
I turned back to the table and sat down again.
“You again?” the raven-haired beauty said.
She might be already half-gone but two of her friends weren’t. One wore a cheap red wig and drank fruit juice. The designated driver? I wondered. The other girl was mousey and had a geeky look about her.
“You asked if you could help me,” I said. “You can. Three days ago, I was driving a minivan with my friends back home. We were partying—just like you, and had a really good time.”
The raven-haired beauty raised her glass. “Amen to that! Woo woo!” And downed her glass.
“On the way back, we were… attacked,” I said. “Some guys kidnapped us.”
The sober pair snapped to attention.
“They put me in their trunk,” I said. “They must have taken my friends somewhere else. I managed to escape and get back here. Now I’m looking for help.”
The mousey girl leaned forward. “Have you gone to the cops?”
I nodded. “They’re in on it too.”
The raven-haired beauty waved a dismissive hand. “Not all of them can be part of it.”
“All of them,” I said meaningfully, pleased I was making headway with at least a couple of them. “They’re part of this criminal gang and they get girls drunk and then kidnap them on their way home. It was us a few days ago. It could be you when you leave.”
“Total garbage!” the raven-haired beauty said, waving her cocktail glass around and spilling it on the table. “This is America! Things like that don’t happen.”
