This is a complete redo of my first story, The Books. Anything you recognize is from that, so don't get too confused. It'll be way different, however, so if you didn't like it before, you might like it now. Enjoy!
No! Things like this don't happen to me!
These were my first thoughts as I woke up in the back of a van, dazed, hands and feet bound with a strong cord. I could hear two men up in the front arguing over the radio. Those kidnapping 101 portions of my health class popped into mind, and I scanned the back of the car, looking for something, anything, that might help.
The car was dark, with only the blue light of the clock display and button on the dash to provide sight. The back was devoid of all seats, excluding one, leaving me to roll around freely. There was one man sitting in the back with me, occupying the only chair, but he was fast asleep. I slowly rolled over to one corner and sat, using the walls to prop myself up. Quietly, I reached around behind me for some sort of sharp object that might have landed there to try and free myself.
At that moment, the car took a sharp left, and I was slammed to the ground. A loud noise accompanied my landing, and the two men up front turned around. I, like anyone in their sane mind, started screaming, hoping for someone outside to hear me and help.
"What the hell, man. You were supposed to watch her," complained the one driving.
"He's asleep," the other commented, poking the man in the back. "I'll get it." And he started climbing over the back seat towards me.
"HELP!" I screeched, rolling around, trying to avoid the hands that were reaching for me. Faster then should even be possible, the creep reached out and snagged my arm, gripping it hard enough to bruise. He roughly yanked me up so I was hanging out of his hand. Panic filled my mind as worse and worse situations played out mentally. I was a 13 year old girl, in a car alone with three strange men, who knows where. I started lashing out with my legs violently, hoping to catch the man unawares somewhere.
"Chloroform, you idiot!" The driver yelled back to his buddy.
"Duh." I was still struggling as he pressed a soft cloth to my face and kneed me in the stomach. Shocked, I sucked in a gasp of air and started to feel woozy. I felt myself hit the floor, almost as if I wasn't in my body. I struggled to stay above the waves of sleepiness coming at me, trying to listen to the conversation at the front of the car, but slowly I slipped under.
Maybe I should explain myself.
My name is Christina Roberts. I'm at the unlucky age of thirteen, where you're too young to do anything alone, too old to do anything fun, and you aren't in high school. I hail from American Fork, Utah, and I live in the typical four person American household. My parents, Kevin and Sharon Roberts, met in college and married not that far after. They had problems having children, so they eventually gave up. My brother, Shane, came as a late surprise, though not unwelcome. Wanting to have another child, my parents went to several fertility specialists. The first time they tried it was a miscarriage. The second time, after 8 months of bed rest and constant monitoring, I was brought into the world, weighing a light 4 pounds 8 ounces.
My childhood was uneventful. I was a minority, that of the redheaded population. I was pretty much your average teen, going to the movies, hanging with friends, watching TV and the likes. I love to read almost anything I could get my hands on. My mind would devour books at an incredible pace. I had a couple close friends, but overall I was the shy kid and I didn't socialize much.
My brother left when he was 19 and never came back, and we haven't had contact with him since. At first I thought it was horrible, but over time I got used to it. It shaped my childhood, making me less trusting of anyone. I was unwilling to get close to people who I didn't already know, which didn't help my standing on the social ladder of middle school.
On Fridays after school I went to a local pizza place with my few friends and then always took the back alleys home. The store wasn't far from my house, so my parents considered it safe. As safe as any parent could, anyway.
Some parts of Utah can be confusing, so I never give a thought when tourists stop and ask for directions to Thanksgiving Point or Lagoon, our local tourist traps. But most people don't stop in a back alley to ask a teen for directions. Go figure.
I should have been paying close attention, or ran, but I was couldn't wait to get home to call my friend Kimberly about my birthday party. One man hopped out of the back of their van and knocked me out with the cloth before I could react in any way. My last thoughts were of my upcoming party, and the denial of half of the guest list...
When I woke, I was in a crate. A freaking dog crate, one that was two sizes too small for a human of my general size. My thoughts still foggy, I looked around, trying to discover where I was. It was a longish room, filled with nothing but crates, no windows. Most were empty, but the one next to me was occupied with a boy.
He looked all wrong. His skin was a pale, washout, blue that was dried out and painfully cracked. There was a hole, a gaping, huge hole in the middle of his face. I leaned in, to try to get a closer look, but the door to the room slammed open.
I instantly slumped, as if I was asleep. At home, my mom would do the same thing trying to catch me up late, reading, which I did a lot. My arm twinged in pain, and I let one eye open a sliver to see an IV taped to my arm, the needle half inside. Two male voices started talking.
"They got one fast this time! Usually the erasers have to wait for a 'golden opportunity'", one voice mocked, "to arise before they grab one of the part humans!"
"Yes, well, Ari lead this time, and he is slightly moreā¦ smart." He snorted, as if the notion of brains was a concept this Ari wouldn't understand. "So, do you know what is this one going to be?"
"No, but I wonder how it survived? Some of the other 97% humans died because they were missing 3% of their DNA."
"They took out the unregistered chromosome strands." The voice laughed. "I still find it funny that we forgot about so many, and then stumble upon the files for them! Just what we needed! Now we don't have to wait another ten year for another batch to age here in the facility."
During this conversation, my crate had been picked up and moved onto a rolling platform. In my head I was trying to piece together what happened and where I was, and two phrases stuck in my mind.
Erasers.
97% Human.
Then it all fit.
I had read Maximum Ride a few months ago. It was book series I had found on a park bench,. I dismissed it as a fiction. Human experimentation? Yeah, right. Cool story, but not a reality.
Well, then, it was just a book. Not now.
I felt a faint cooling sensation in my arm, and my mind started to slip away again. One coherent thought came to me before all reality faded.
What is happening to me?
Don't forget to review, it fuels my ever-hungry muse.
~Wryder