Cage (Dark World Book 1) (3 page)

A double rainbow teased over a small stream in the distance and though thirsty, Cyra knew better than to approach or she would be tempted to taste and soothe her dry throat. Drinking water from an unsecured place was a huge no-no and drilled into every child’s head—unless desperate, but Cyra wasn’t desperate, yet. Cyra moved on to avoid the enticement. But her gaze lingered on the vibrant colors of the rainbows for a few seconds as she passed. For an instant, the sky overhead went dark. Gazing up, Cyra saw mass fleets of flying birds, so large were they, and flying so closely together in sync it appeared one giant bird.

“Amazing.”

Other oddities became clear to Cyra as she walked, her gaze shifting right to left in awe. She had traveled Earth before, linking monorails over nations gave citizens access to any country within hours at super speeds; cars were a luxury and meant for those in power. Her parents owned cars; Cyra had owned a number of them but the monorail, in her opinion, was best. She was privy to oddities of wildlife in other countries as were all citizens of Earth. Learning differences in humans and others was acceptance; it was law to learn and to accept. It wasn’t hard when Earth’s citizens were pleasant. By the age of three, all children were well traveled, many knew multiple languages, not just the three mandatory ones. Brilliance was encouraged and if a child excelled in a certain area, steps were taken to fuel the child’s mind to prodigy. Intelligence was revered.

Cyra stopped for a moment and took note of strange beings growing in numbers. The squirrel-like creatures lapping at the various ice flowers were a species she’d never encountered before. Their back half was furred and indigo; their front half was bare, white, with two huge ill-proportioned cat’s eyes. Two antennae stuck from their heads and wiggled in her direction as she passed by. The creatures were eerily quiet and Cyra just knew they were communicating with each other as they stared at her.

“Maybe radiation got them,” she muttered.

It wasn’t unheard of for large portions of radiation to float from damaged old nuclear containers, be they gasses or liquid. Dumping beyond the legal indicated areas was punishable by death, but a tornado wasn’t subject to law, accidents happened. Cyra had seen three-eyed fish and the mangled offspring of affected animals from time to time. The government was quick to step in and make evidence disappear. She cursed her luck, if she were in a quarantined area of Earth she was in deep shit. It would take weeks of decontamination treatments, doctors, prodding and poking. Ultimately she would be fine, but the idea was annoying. She groaned in frustration. So much for freedom. Maybe they’d let her have ice cream.

Tiny critters scuttled across the forest floor. Cyra was at a loss as to what they were. She hoped the contamination wouldn’t be too bad. If caught early, she would be fine. The more oddities she detected, the more concern she felt as time dragged by. A tiny bug hovered before her eyes and Cyra waved at it, smiling.

Finally, someone has noticed me.

“Ouch,” she yelped in stunned surprise as a small sting pricked her.

Cyra swatted at her arm. The bug dropped to the ground. Cyra leaned down and picked up the small winged insect. Guts oozed from its belly. She let it fall back to the earth. On her arm, a large welt was forming. She itched at the bump. It had been—never—since an insect had stung her.

“Insect warfare?” she whispered; her heart began to race with her worry. Not unheard of but it had been decades since the last insect invasion. And the insects weren’t real, mechanical innards wouldn’t have oozed outwards.

With trepidation, Cyra waited for her throat to swell and seal. She lifted her t-shirt for signs of any rash forming. She blinked wondering when the dots would appear. Her fear increased as her breathing grew labored.

Am I dying?

Long moments passed and her hyperventilating slowed.
Breathe, you’re fine.
Nothing happened. The red welt itched, nothing more. She was lightheaded but surmised it was her own fault. Another insect buzzed by. Cyra danced around it, swatted it and watched as it too dropped to the ground. Cyra stomped on it with her good foot until it was smashed into the dirt.

“Who would attack a lone woman? And how would someone direct real insects?” The idea was confusing as hell and somewhat scary. Obeying insects? What type of life form were these things? The government would be hearing of this new development. No one attacked women and lived; filthy animals weren’t permitted on Earth.

A swarm of the tiny insects buzzed in a circle at eye level a few feet away. Cyra held her breath and inched back. Absently, she scratched at her arm. When far enough, she trot-limped as fast as she could in a different direction.

Dusk settled as time waned. As Cyra moved she realized there might have been more damage done to her body then she first realized. Her movements slowed to a creep as the aching in her bones could no longer be ignored. Her eyes gazed about for a place to rest and unfortunately spend the night. She was surprised she hadn’t been approached by anyone. The microchip in her hand should have activated some type of sensor indicating her whereabouts to personnel. All government employees were chipped for safety reasons. Cyra wasn’t expendable. A small comfort in the middle of nowhere.

Up ahead in a tiny clearing was a wall made of small tree trunks lashed together. A sure sign of life. Cyra stood before the structure wondering what it would take to expand on it to create a safe sleeping area. It was one simple wall, about twelve feet high and twelve feet long. The tops were carved into pointed spears; the tips looked dipped in a metal substance. Cyra looked behind it; there was nothing there, just the other side of the wall.

“Huh. Who would go to the trouble of building one single wall? Bored children starting a fort? How sad if there are young ones trapped in a radioactive zone. Also highly unlikely.”

Cyra touched the wood; it was smooth under her fingertips and sturdy as hell. She howled and spun in a fast circle when three more walls shot up from the ground sealing her in before she could react. Cyra banged against the walls with opened hands and closed fists; she kicked the solid mass, her body protesting with pain, her sore ankle was in agony supporting her weight. She was trapped, caged within the twelve foot by twelve foot enclosure.

She tried running at the walls to scale the height, but the sides were more than smooth, they were slick. She skidded down each time to land on her butt. Struggling to her feet, she stood in the middle of the structure and swore. It had to be an animal trap, a huge-ass animal. Cyra tried not to panic, knowing if someone set the trap they would come back to see if they had been successful and would let her out. A small amount of panic niggled the back of her mind as she wondered if this were some plot, kidnapping her for her expertise. She shrugged off the thought, she was brilliant but there were others far more superior.

Well maybe one or two others.

A humming sounded. For a second, she spun in circles wondering if she was under attack again. On one of the walls near the bottom a box opened she hadn’t noticed. She approached with caution. A clean container filled with what appeared to be water sloshed. Parched and sweaty Cyra dipped her hand into the liquid. She supposed now was a good time to declare herself desperate. A tiny taste confirmed it was plain water. It was apparent whoever trapped her wanted her alive. She drank until satisfied. She scooped huge amounts to toss over her head and rinse the back of her neck and then throat and breasts. The bucket refilled from the bottom indicating she wouldn’t dehydrate while she waited for help to come. The idea should have been comforting but she was pissed—
oh the irony of that particular word
. It was a far cry from a long soak in a soapy hot tub.

“Someone is in big trouble,” she growled.

It was a small comfort knowing if she couldn’t get out then bears couldn’t get in, Cyra hoped. Or tigers or lions depending on where she’d landed. She plopped her butt down and sat quietly thinking. Absently she rubbed her ankle. Someone would be looking for her. A top computer scientist didn’t go missing without shit hitting the fan. She tried looking on the bright side, she was concerned but not afraid and at least she didn’t need to relieve herself. If the cage was monitored by someone, they might already be on their way to release her and she had no plans to drop her drawers and put her butt on display if the need did arise. Cameras were everywhere, both on Earth and all satellite stations. The captain was lucky the voyage would have been taped on the vessel; he could prove he was innocent of any wrongful harm or foul deed.

Nope, it was all me and my dumbass bladder.

Overhead the sky was black; bright green stars flickered to offer some light in her dreary surroundings. They weren’t really stars; as the captain said, they were gas build ups from toxins humans expelled into space hoping one of the black holes would take them away. She was happy he’d explained that to her. From what the captain said, she would guess there were more black holes than ever. The captain was right; no one knew where the holes would take you, and smart humans avoided them. A scary thought. Cyra jumped, torn from her thoughts, when a number of stars exploded making popping sounds. A celebration of the heavens was overhead. Reds, yellows, greens. Beautiful but oddly strange.

Sighing, Cyra realized it would be a long night; she’d have tons of time to ponder gas clouds. For now, she enjoyed the fireworks. She lay back and laced her fingers together under her head enjoying the serenity. On the space station she was never alone. Her every word was heard. She trained herself, as did many on Earth, to keep her opinions muted. One wrong sound, one taboo word and the hand of the government came crashing down to freeze your assets until you explained any misunderstanding. Shit disturbers were rampant.

Spying on your neighbors paid big bucks in the effort to catch terrorists and racists. Freedom of speech was only a memory and only in a hypothetical situation. Guilty until proven innocent was the norm and flying drones in the form of pigeons, seagulls and other fowl long replaced real flying birds. Spies were everywhere, for all Cyra knew, the odd squirrels could have been drones reciting her position—perhaps not a bad thing.

With the bad came the good, the only kidnappings to occur were government planned. Children played free with the many eyes on them, including insect drones. The government was insistent bees were the real deal, but everyone knew bees had died out long ago. A major player in politics lost his only child to a bee sting, hence the eradication of bees. The drones were as effective with pollination, but a bee sting was unheard of. Children, real human children were coveted. It was death to steal a child or anyone else for that matter. Earth was all but free of thieves, psychos and terrorists. In vitro screening played a huge part. And the guilty were
always
caught and dealt with. Loss of privacy was considered irrelevant when everyone went to bed without fear.

Cyra was tired of thinking. She loved her planet, faults and all; it was her way of life. Her cottage getaway was looking better by the second. A beautiful lake, a peaceful evening, a fire, marshmallows, hot chocolate with Baileys and whip cream…heavenly. If a few bees watched her every move she could sleep under the stars in a mesh-covered, luxury, lounge chair. Cyra wondered if the mesh chairs had been enhanced. The ones she was used to were temperature controlled, meaning she could sleep naked in a snowstorm without fear of freezing or a heat wave without broiling. Not that she would, but seeming vulnerable during a storm was intriguing to some who loved to watch the madness. The chairs would give off a warning to chase away unwanted furry intruders. That idea was a real selling point to those like Cyra who had encountered frightening beasts. The chairs were also impervious to Mother Nature’s assaults. But, who knew what improvements had been made, if any? They were already perfect in Cyra’s opinion.

A crack sounded behind the trap walls, ruining her peaceful pondering. Cyra crept to her knees and scooted to a wall. Had help come finally?
About frickin’ time.
She pressed her face to the wood resting her cheek against the slick coolness. Her long ebony hair she normally wore in a bun had come loose to rest across an eye. She knew she must look a sight. She plastered on the best friendly face she could muster until she realized whatever was behind the wall wasn’t making the friendliest of sounds. Cyra took small breaths, something was growling on the other side of the fence. Something was prowling around the perimeter.

“Hello?” she whispered.

The growling grew heavier. Whatever it was had stopped right behind the other side of the wall where she was.

Dumbass, now it knows you’re in here.

Cyra couldn’t breathe. A being so hideous and huge jumped into her cage, the ground shook when it landed, spirals and puffs of dark dirt leapt and settled. Cyra stood shakily, partially bent at the knees. She was frozen, her eyes wide in fear. The winged beast was four feet high at the shoulder. A deep indigo, hard gaze settled onto her, the two eyes round and large as saucers. Two long antennae wiggled in her direction. The pale, dingy, dust-looking green wings fluttered in a small breeze. The beast was still growling, showing off large teeth. Tufts of deep purple fur rustled in a slight breeze. Its lion-like body rippled with power.

Cyra wasn’t on Earth. This being wasn’t a progeny of a manipulation of toxins. She knew it as much as she knew she was doomed. She had entered into the black hole with Earth’s garbage and could be anywhere, in any universe. She backed up slowly until her back hit the wall. There was no escape. She crouched as the fanged creature moved closer, closer. Its oversized furry head cocked to the side, studying her. The pads of its hoofed four feet shuffled in a slinking motion. A cow tail twitched back and forth.

Droplets of rain began to fall. As the creature readied itself to pounce, small walls formed around Cyra sealing her into a little cage, protecting her from harm. Only one tiny rectangle allowed air into her jail. The creature screamed in rage as a ceiling covered the larger cage. Everything went dark. Cyra was trapped with the beast. Damp panties were the least of her worries.