And I bet none of them have ever been seen again…
Not on this planet, at least.
I had to escape the town, and maybe, just maybe, I would never have to see them ever again.
I turned to begin my hasty departure—
I slammed into someone, knocking me back on my ass.
It was the front desk officer who brought me coffee earlier. He juggled a bag of food he bought at the local sandwich shop. The drink almost slopped to the floor.
“Careful!” he said before looking up. “Oh. It’s you. I was just bringing you your chicken sandwich. Is barbeque okay?”
I lay on the floor, aghast. I willed myself to quit staring at that distinctive band of skin about his wrist and focused on his eyes. I didn’t blink.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s fine.”
“Where are you heading off to?” he said amiably.
“The, uh, bathroom,” I said. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“It’s down the hall on the left,” the officer said, still smiling. “I’ll put your meal in the interrogation room for you. Unless you prefer to eat somewhere more open?”
“No!” I blurted. “The interrogation room is fine.”
“Okay then. Don’t take too long. It tastes a whole lot better when it’s hot.”
He sauntered down the hall and disappeared inside the interrogation room. A moment later, he came out, clapping off his hands, and whistling as he headed back to the front desk.
I hurried down the hall and opened the bathroom door. I glanced inside and noticed there were bars over the windows. No way I could squeeze through them. I headed down the hallway where the duty officer had come from.
There had to be an exit down there somewhere.
The station had so many hallways it reminded me of a rat run. I had no idea where I was going, but if I kept going, I was certain I would find a way out of there eventually.
Bingo.
There it was. A back door that fed onto the station’s parking lot. A dozen patrol cars waited for the morning shift. I had to be long gone by then.
I left the parking lot and took off into town. I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until the police station was out of sight.
The station was located near the center of town. I raced down Main Street and passed the excited partiers. I glanced into one of the more popular bars. I could easily imagine being there with my friends.
I kept glancing over my shoulder and bumped into a guy who stepped into the street. He staggered and almost dropped his bottle. He looked about ready to start a fracas but I kept my eyes down and moved on.
I reached the edge of town. Just a few days ago, we’d driven out this way but the journey hadn’t ended the way we thought it would.
Drive. I needed a car. I couldn’t get home without one.
The streetlamps formed tiny haloes of light and the road stretched into endless darkness beyond. Like a tiny planet floating in space.
Then it occurred to me.
There would be no escaping these things. If I ran now, I’d be running forever. They were an advanced intergalactic species, capable of incredible feats of technology. Did I really think they didn’t know how to use Google to find me?
They already had my name and address. They had the details of my friends, my aunt, my work… My entire life.
The goal of simply running away didn’t seem so simple anymore. I couldn’t return to my normal life. I couldn’t slip seamlessly back into things.
My life had changed.
I would have to start again somewhere, get a new identity, go off the grid.
I would never see my family again.
Did I really want to start a whole new life somewhere completely alone? Always looking over my shoulder, wondering if they were going to find me? I could go through all that without knowing they hadn’t raised a single finger to chase me. After all, who would ever believe a crazy story like mine?
I didn’t want to live like that. I refused to be a victim forever.
I needed to warn the partiers. If there were lots of us, maybe they wouldn’t focus on just me. With enough bad press, they might leave the town for good and never return.
I turned away from the road of escape and ran back into town, to the nearest bar. I would speak with the workers, I decided. The managers had to take the threat of kidnapping seriously. If I changed my story, made it more believable, maybe they would help me.
I wasn’t abducted. I was kidnapped.
I wasn’t frozen in a pod for interstellar travel. I was tied up and tossed in a trunk.
I wasn’t being taken to a master on a distant world for nefarious purposes. I was being sex trafficked.
I wasn’t set free by a wayward asteroid field. The trunk lock was faulty and I managed to roll out.
And the police weren’t innocent. They knew about it. They were a part of it. They chose the targets and instructed the kidnappers of potential targets.
Once the feds got involved, I’d demand they take DNA tests of the cops to link them to the crime scene. They would discover the officers weren’t human.
That’s when the Changelings would pull out. That’s when we would all be safe.
I entered the nearest bar and weaved between the customers. I reached the front and waved for the bar tender’s attention but he was already overrun with customers. A waitress with a tray piled high with food sailed past. I grabbed her arm.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Yes?” the waitress said. She wore a nametag that identified her as Sharon.
She beamed a grin that immediately sent a shiver through me. It was fake, too forced, like someone had seen a photo and hadn’t had enough practice with making it look natural.
My eyes drifted down to
