The Abduction (9 page)

Rikist
peered at her with one eye as his fingers brushed hers around the bottle’s neck. “I thought you’d said—”

“You seem to need it.”

He smirked. “That obvious, huh?”

Silence stretched between them, and Samantha played with the edge of her dress. She cast sideways glances toward Rikist, dipping her head lower when she caught him doing the same to her. After a few moments, Rikist sighed and leaned back on the couch, head turned toward Samantha.

“I’m sorry.”

Samantha started, and she twisted on the couch to fully face him. “You don’t have—”

“That…
I
was inappropriate.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home.”

Samantha stared at Rikist,
suddenly calm and at ease as an idea sprang into her head. She scooted closer on the couch and put her hand on his shoulder. She smiled.

“Funny thing is,” she said. “I haven’t felt this comfortable since I’ve been here.”

Rikist stared as the red flush began to recede.  His left hand slid across the couch, hesitated, and the slid up onto her knee.

The
front door panel beeped, and they both looked over as the door opened and Krissik stepped through, his arms loaded with rolled drawings and several packages. Samantha quickly pulled her arm back and stood to help Krissik. She took several of the packages away and set them on the counter as he shut and locked the door.

Krissik emptied his load on the counter and sighed, rolling his neck. He stepped up to Samantha and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
He hesitated, and then took a deeper sniff toward her skin. He frowned, and his eyes shot toward Rikist.

“Has he been giving you trouble?”

She hesitated. “No. He’s been a gentleman. I’ve been helping him move around the apartment.”

Jealousy seeped out of Krissik’s pores
. “What were…”

“He can barely walk, Krissik,” Samantha cut him off. She hesitated, and then brushed his hair back and cradled his cheek with one hand. “I’m just trying to help out.”

Krissik stared down at her, surprised, and then smiled. He sat at the table and began unlacing his boots as Samantha stepped into the kitchen. He glanced again at Rikist.

“You
are
looking better,” he said. “Should you be drinking?”

Rikist took a long
pull on the bottle and glared at his brother. “Piss off.”

Krissik raised an
eyebrow and looked up as Samantha appeared with a plate.

“I am sorry,” he said,
taking her hand and kissing her wrist. “I was not expecting to be home so late. You cooked?”

“Yes. Are you hungry?”

Krissik used a fork to spear the sautéed veggies and meat and stuffed it in his mouth. His looked at her sideways. “This is very good. Thank you.”

Samantha
sat at the table while Krissik ate, mildly fascinated by his fangs as he ate. Samantha glanced over at Rikist, who sat watching the news and flipping through his glass phone. She tapped her fingers on the table, waiting until Krissik had cleared half his plate before speaking.

“
Do you think you could take me for a tour of the city?”

Krissik’s fork froze midway to his mouth. He sat up and lowered his hand. “Why?”

“Well… I am new here. It would be nice to see what your planet looks like.”

“Have you watched the monitors?”

Samantha frowned. “Yes, watching the news is pretty much all I’ve been able to do all day. I need to get out and see things for myself.”

Krissik hesitated, as if unsure how to answer. He glanced past Samantha’s head toward the couch.

Samantha turned to where Rikist sat watching them. She furrowed her brow at him. “What’s the big deal?”

“You can’t,” Rikist said flatly. “Human females are not allowed on the streets.”

It felt like someone had kicked Samantha in the stomach. She swallowed. “Why… you mean not at all?”

“You’re not to be seen by
other males outside of family.” Rikist’s gaze did not waver. “Doing so could be grounds for punishment.”

Samantha’s heart raced. She spoke before she could stop herself, “Like what?”

Something haunting passed over Rikist’s features. “You don’t want to know.”

“
Samantha,” Krissik cleared his throat and stood. “I-I have something for you.”

He turned and shuffled through the packages he’d set on the counter
, his hands shaking. He stepped close to Samantha, his hands behind his back, and approached the table.

“I… wanted you to have this.” He held out a flat, wrapped package. “I know it means a lot to you.”

Samantha’s hands trembled slightly as she unfolded the silver foil packaging, and gasped.
She held up her restored tablet, inspecting it in the light; the glass touch screen had been repaired, and a sleek, brushed steel casing had been attached to the outside, forming a protective ridge around the glass front.

“You fixed it,” she said softly.
“How?”

“At night, when you were sleeping.”
His dropped to one knee and rested his hand on her thigh. “Anything to make you happy.” He leaned forward, hesitated, and the pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Ahem,” Rikist coughed, noisily shifting on the couch so the springs groaned.

Krissik broke the kiss and glared at him.

Rikist held out one hand
, his face a careful blank mask. “And where’s mine?”

Krissik
growled and stood, his hand trailing along Samantha’s shoulder as he stepped to grab several packages off the counter. He carried them over to the couch and dropped them on Rikist’s lap. Rikist grunted, lifting the items off his propped leg. He hissed and pressed on his thigh, his eyes closed.

“Thanks,” he forced out.

Krissik snorted, and then sat back at the table to eat across from Samantha.

Samantha
watched him eat, fascinated by his fangs as he opened his mouth for the fork.

“I am going to help Rikist
get set up,” Krissik said when he finished. “I brought home more medical supplies, and a wound vac.”

“Wound-what?”

“A device to help his wounds heal faster and remove infection and deliver proteins to the muscles…”

Samantha
frowned, her eyes glazing over as he went on to explain the medical terminology. “I’m going to read for a while.”

Krissik nodded, and rubbed
his cheek against hers before standing. He smiled at her, and then walked to Rikist.

Samantha sat at the table with her
legs propped on another chair, and grabbed her tablet, leaning it against her knees. She swiped through the menu pages, checking to make sure everything was there, and then settled down with a romance novel.

She glanced up
to watch as Krissik helped Rikist remove the dressings on his wounds and pull out a heavy, weighted wrap and a small, portable pump from the silver packaging.

Rikist
verbally walked Krissik through the procedure, making it obvious he’d used the device before, and Krissik compliantly followed the instructions and placed gauze on the wounds, then covered everything with a transparent film. Rikist shifted his weight so that Krissik could lift his leg off the couch high enough to slide the heavy wrap underneath, and tightly fold the edges around his thigh and knee and securing it with thick straps. Krissik handed Rikist the small, wired pump, and connected a wire from the pump to an input on the wrap. Rikist pressed several buttons, and a small humming sound emanated from the pump as the wrap constricted.

Rikist grimaced and leaned back against the arm of the couch, his face
tense. Krissik patted his shoulder and then proceeded to put away the extra supplies.

Samantha watched, a feeling of dread building in her throat, until most of the supplies were packed, and Krissik bade his brother a good night. She stood suddenly, hitching the tablet under one arm and headed toward the bedroom.

Krissik looked up. “I’ll come to bed soon,” he called after her.

Samantha turned,
forced a smile, and then veered into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

She hurried
to the shower and turned on the water, letting the hiss of the steam fill the silence of the room. She backed away from the door to the far wall below the thin window slits and sank to her butt, leaning back against the cool tiles. She closed her eyes as hot tears stung her cheeks, and she gripped her knees to keep her hands from shaking.

How am I supposed to escape if I can’t even get past these apartment walls?

There was punishment if a female was seen by a strange male…

After seeing the brutality of the alien males and the mass rape during Samantha’s abduction, she could only guess what sort of punishment that could be.

Samantha wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

Women were not allowed outside.

At least not alone…

“Damn, asshole shot me!”

Samantha woke
with a start in the dim light of dawn, listening to the sounds of gunfire and yelling. She sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around her waist, and she looked around Krissik’s empty bedroom, eyes wide.

“Krissik!”

Her breath hitched in her throat when he didn’t answer, and she leapt out of bed and wrapped herself in the sheet on the way to the bedroom door. She slid the door open, and cautiously stepped out.

“
Krissik?”

“Son of a bitch,” Rikist cursed. “Why can’t I ever seem to—”

Samantha’s eyes widened. “Rikist!”

Rikist looked from where he
lounged on the couch in boxer-style underwear and tank, his wrapped up leg propped on the coffee table and a dusting of crumbs on the front of his shirt. He glanced up annoyed in Samantha’s direction, and then did a double take at her state of dress and put down the white plastic controller in his hand. He furrowed his brow curiously.

“Did I wake you?”
He wiped at his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was being so loud.”

Samantha gaped at him. She looked between him and the monitor, blinked, and then stepped further into the room to see the screen more clearly. Her jaw dropped, and she followed
a blinking adapter box and two wires that hung from the back of the monitor to the floor, where a white box with a glowing green light sat. She turned back to Rikist, and pointed to the controller in his hands.

“Is that… is than an Xbox?”

Rikist grimaced. “Don’t tell Krissik. He’s a bit of snitch.”

Samantha tightened her grip on the sheet and hitched it higher around her breasts.
“How the hell did you get that here?”

He grinned slyly.
“I have my connections.”

“And
why don’t you want Krissik to know?”

“My connections
aren’t always… becoming of a military man in my position. He would not approve.”

“And what do I get out of it?”

“Excuse me?” His face went stoic.

Samantha crossed her arms. “Since you’re so afraid of Krissik putting you on time out, what do I get if I keep my mouth shut?”

Rikist glared at her, and then reached behind his back. He tossed something toward Samantha, and she caught it while struggling to hold up the sheet.

She looked down at her hand and then up at Rikist.
“Are you kidding me?”

Rikist shrugged and turned his game back on.

Samantha’s nostrils flared, and her shoulders bunched. “You mean to tell me,” she yelled over the sound of gunfire, “that you’ve been hiding candy bars in your room this entire time, even after I made you dinner and complained about chocolate—”

“Well if I knew
I could use it to bribe you to shut up then I would have pulled them out sooner.”

She shook her head. “You are such a—”

“Dick, I know,” he said, distracted. His eyes glued to the screen as he quickly fired with his thumbs. He smirked. “You seemed to have enjoyed some of that last night.”

“I don’t appreciate all of the innuendos.”
Samantha stepped in front of the monitor. “And no, for your information we didn’t do anything other than sleep. But Krissik hasn’t given me any sleepwear—”

“Whatever.”
Rikist leaned his shoulders to try to see past her. He growled. “Do you mind?”

“I do, actually. I would like some answers—”

A rapid series of fired shots boomed out of the speakers, and Rikist groaned. “Come on, Samantha, move!”

“
You’re such a child. What else do you have hidden away?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“I…” Rikist paused the game and sat back, frustrated. “
I said I would leave you alone. Why are
you
bugging
me
now? I had Krissik fix your tablet for a reason.”

Samantha’s eyes widened.
“
You
had him fix it?”

Rikist hesitated, realizing his slip. “I might have suggested it.”

“Why?”

Rikist sighed and tossed the controller to the couch. He brushed off the crumbs on his chest and sighed. “Because as much as my brother seems to love you, he’s clueless on how to treat a woman and needs all the help he can get.”

“And what would you know about how to treat a woman?”

“I know a thing or two.”
Rikist gave her his best suave smile and shrugged his eyebrows.

“I doubt that.” Samantha turned and started walking back
to Krissik’s bedroom. “You’re just angry all the time because you’re stuck in a sausage fest…”

“What did you say?”

Samantha turned. “As a lifetime bachelor you’re not in the position to be spewing out marriage advice.”

Rikist’s face reddened, and his
amber eyes nearly glowed with anger. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Krissik told me,” she continued. “You’re so wrapped up in yourself and your work that you never made the jump
to find a mate. Now it’s too late and—”

“Is that what he told you?”

Samantha froze at the venom dripping in his voice. She held her breath as he glared at her, his breathing heavy. His clawed hands had punctured the couch cushions, and he shifted his weight to sit further upright. A dark, angry blush crept up his neck and over his cheeks and ears.

“Is that what he told you?” he repeated, his voice low.

Samantha nodded, unable to speak. Her heart raced at the sudden flash of rage she’d seen in his eyes; an animalistic fury potent enough to burn the paint off the walls.

Rikist growled.
“I’m going to kick his fucking ass when he gets home.”

“
I… What?”

He looked away.
“Nothing.”

“Like hell it’s
nothing.” She shook herself to loosen the tightness in her shoulders. “Why won’t you tell me?”

Samantha crossed her arms
when he simply stared at his hands. Rikist sat back on the couch, deflated. Samantha stared at him for a moment, trying to find a hint of reasoning on his face behind his outburst. After a few long moments, she sighed and sat on the couch beside him. She glanced down at the box of cheese crackers by Rikist’s side, and dug in and grabbed a hand full. She popped three into her mouth, savoring the all-too missed burst of flavor after days of fish and hard roots. She sighed.

“Do you have an extra controller?”
she asked.

“Why?”
Rikist glanced up at her, an emotion in his eyes Samantha couldn’t place.

Samantha
swallowed. “To play with you, stupid. I need something to do.”

“
Later.” He reached forward and unzipped the straps on the leg wrap. “I want to go for a walk.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

Samantha chewed slowly as Rikist ignored her and unwrapped his leg. She was surprised at the state of his wounds; the redness of infection was gone, and the swelling had gone down considerably. She leaned forward to inspect the gash on his thigh, where the transparent bandage had actually started to meld with his skin, as if his body were absorbing it.

“Your leg,” she said, astonished. “The cuts look like they’ve been healing for at least a week or more.”

Rikist nodded and tested his leg, flexing his muscles and rolling his ankle. He pointed to the bandage.

“There are proteins in the tape, absorbed through the skin to feed muscle and tissue regeneration. The vacuum pulls out damaged cells and infection, cutting the healing time
to a fraction.”

“Amazing.”

“It’s my ACL I’m worried about…” he muttered. He slowly attempted to bend his knee, and stopped after only a few inches of movement. “Hoping I should be good to go in another week or two.”

Rikist
slipped on a pair of pants lying over the back of the armchair, then stepped into his boots. He grunted and struggled to tie his laces, until Samantha huffed and knelt in front of him to help. He grunted in acknowledgment, and then fit the metal brace on the outside of his leg for support. He scooted to the edge of the couch and hooked the crutch under his arm. He pushed himself to his feet, and took a deep breath. He tested his weight on his leg, grimaced, but looked pleased that it held. He glanced down at Samantha, his face considering.

“Do you want to go?”

Samantha stood, her ears perked. “I thought you said women aren’t allowed?”

He nodded and then shrugged. “It’s dawn. There are hardly any residents in the area anyway, and no one will be up this early.
It won’t be long, probably just around the block. I just want to get the blood flowing.”

“Sure. I’d love to.”

She stepped toward the door, and the crutch shot out to block her path. She turned to meet the amber eyes.

“You need to stay close,” Rikist warned. “
For your own safety.”

Samantha smiled sweetly, putting her best face forward. “
I promise.”

Samantha could barely contain her excitement as she stepped out of the apartment building and onto the front patio
wearing one of the four new dress outfits and sandals Krissik had laid out for her. She closed her eyes and sucked in air, letting the chill of the morning bite her nose and sting her lungs.

She looked around, and realized that Krissik had not been exaggerating on how hard their world had been hit; the tall, metal buildings stood in long city blocks devoid of color or character.
Blackened smears of what could have been from explosions or enemy fire broke the dull uniformity of the gray landscape. Almost no foliage or greenery could be seen anywhere, save for a few dying potted plants on a deserted balcony of the apartments across the street.

She
frowned, and then held out her elbow for Rikist and helped him down the trio of steps to the sidewalk. He grunted as his feet hit the sidewalk, and she looked up at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Rikist nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”

He took them to the right, and she kept her pace slow to stay by his side as she gazed up at the metal buildings illuminated by the red glow of the rising sun, for a moment bringing color to a world drowned in shades of gray.

Samantha was happy to see Rikist moving around much better; he still needed the crutch with his heavy limp, but he seemed much more energetic and color had begun to return to his face. She caught him looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“What?”
she said.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

She poked him in the arm. “You were staring.”

“I wasn’t.” He smiled. “That dress looks good on you.”

Samantha smiled back, and then frowned when she felt a slight blush heat her cheeks. “Thanks.” She stared at the quiet streets void of life. “Is it always this quiet around here?”

“It’s still early.” Rikist shrugged as they rounded the
second corner of the block. “But yes, for the most part this is a quiet sector. Many of the apartments are vacant.”

“Why?”

“Many moved to the main cities after the resistance started.” He snorted. “They seemed to think being in a higher populated area meant more safety.”

“And you don’t believe that?”

He hesitated. “What I personally believe doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because our leaders decide what we should believe, how we should act, and who we should fight.” His grip tightened on the crutch. “Their will is law.”

Samantha eyed him curiously. She was very surprised this was coming for a decorated officer in their government’s military; a man who fought against those uprising against those in power and strove to squash the rebels from starting a civil war. The medals and ribbons strung across his
bedroom walls declared his loyalty to his leaders and willing to risk his life for his duties… but his current actions stated otherwise, and Samantha wasn’t sure which to believe.

“You don’t sound like you care for that law.”

Rikist glanced at her, and then went back to focusing on his feet. “A soldier is not supposed to act on what he agrees, but what he is told.”

“That’s not answering my question.”

Rikist chuckled. “No, I guess not,” he sighed, and his pace slowed. “Though I will say I’m glad this is the last corner before we make it back.”

“Is your leg hurting?’

He nodded. “I’m going to need some meds when I get home.”

She patted h
is back and slowed to keep pace. She continued their conversation with general small talk, asking questions about the neighborhood, locations of ports, and transportation.