Eve Langlais: Accidental Abduction

Alien Abduction series 1

Copyright © May 2011, Eve Langlais

Maybe drowning won’t be so bad. Megan’s numb arms and legs agreed. Yet, despite the fact her whole body wanted her to stop moving-screamed it actually-she kept fluttering, moving her hands and feet just enough to keep her face above the waves. Every now and then she got a mouthful of salty water that made her choke and did nothing to cure her thirst. At least she didn’t have to contend with the burning sun. Chances were she’d succumb to fatigue before the dawn arrived with its warming rays. Her sarcastic side-which was begging for a slap-piped in that she should also show thanks that she’d stopped shivering a while ago, her body acclimatizing itself to the Pacific waters she floated in.

Megan never intended to go for a swim when she set out for an evening cruise. She had her boyfriend- stupid, freaking jerk -to thank for her situation. And to think, she’d thought Cameron was “the one.” He’d certainly said and done the right things in his wooing of her and she’d enjoyed his company well enough, most of the time anyway, a rarity for her where men were concerned. She should have smelt something fishy when he’d immediately pushed for them to make everything joint soon after they moved in together-the whole cohabiting thing again, his idea. His claimed, “Don’t you trust me?” should have rung warning bells.

There was nothing as foolish as a woman in love, though, or in her case, like. She’d fallen into the trap he laid, and not just the trap of a con man, but a death trap. I wonder if my grave stone will say “Here lies Megan, screwed by a man, yet again.”

In her defense, no woman ever expected the man she loved-or liked-to betray them-even if in her case, her track record with men should have provided a clue. She’d blithely agreed to go on a nocturnal jaunt with him, the moonlight cruise a celebration of sorts, the anniversary of their six month dating mark. A record for her. It would now also mark the date of her death. At least the bastard toasted her with champagne before hip checking her off the boat with an exaggerated “Oops.” Then, he’d had the nerve to laugh when she’d asked him for help as she treaded water, incredulity not making her see the obvious at first.

It didn’t take her long to clue in, and then she unleashed a litany of curses that would have made most seamen blush. Of course, the way she screamed in glaring detail the way she’d maim him when she got her hands on him might have factored in Cameron’s decision to go through with his deadly plan-or precipitated it? She should have probably left off the gruesome details about how she’d emasculate him. But still, what other reaction did he expect given his action?

Megan heard his derisive laughter for a long time after he steered the yacht away in the dark with only the stars to guide him. Hours later-or so she assumed given the numerous scenarios she’d had time to run through her mind where she survived and got her revenge-she floated at the ends of her endurance and strength, fighting to live even though she knew she had no hope of surviving.

A large wave rolled over her head and she floundered under the water for a moment, almost giving up, too tired to care. Then she saw it.

A light!

Disbelief made her stare under the water at the bright beacon hovering just above her head. Rescue? She didn’t question the improbability of it, just strained toward the brilliance using her last ounce of strength. Her head broke the surface of the ocean and she blinked in the bright glare, then blinked again as her body began to rise out of the water. Did I die? Is this how my journey to heaven begins? Sopping wet and pissed? Not to mention she’d always expected a much, much warmer reception when she finally did kick it. A poster child for pure living she wasn’t.

A flopping fish lifted from the water in front of her and rose rapidly, slapping her in the face with its thrashing tail in passing.

What the hell?

Hell had nothing to do with it, though, she surmised. She peered around in slack jawed disbelief as she and a football field of fish, along with other denizens of the ocean, rose out of the water, caught in some weird anti-gravitational field. And no she wasn’t some kind of science geek for thinking that. She’d recently watched a marathon of Star Trek films because of Cameron, a true Trekkie fan. She’d never expected the inane fiction of the screen to ever relate to her life, but what else could explain why she and thousands of sea critters were floating as if weightless, drawn toward an illuminated maw whose edges she could barely make out.

It occurred to her to scream for help, but seriously, she wasn’t an idiot even if she sucked in her choice of boyfriends. Besides, exactly who did she expect to save her from an obvious alien extraction? In her current situation, abduction sure beat drowning any day.

Excitement replaced her exhaustion and resignation of her fate. She was about to meet extra-terrestrial life. Would they be green? Short or tall? Would they appear like a wrinkled E.T. or humanoid like her?

On top of these curious inner musings, doubt suddenly piled on. What if they were violent? Ate humans as a delicacy? Or- gasp -sold human females as sex slaves? Megan looked down at her plump frame and her lips twisted ruefully. I’m more likely to end up someone’s main course than a sex slave. While she didn’t mind her plentiful curves, they didn’t appeal to everyone; although, she’d had more than one boyfriend claim it wasn’t her body that turned them off, but her mouth. She didn’t believe in keeping her opinions and criticisms to herself.

The slow aerial ascent took forever it seemed to reach the gaping hole in the bottom of the craft and about time, too, because out of the water, she shivered with cold, her damp sundress clinging to her. She hugged her arms around her body, but it didn’t help her chattering teeth.

What are the chances I’ll be greeted with a towel? Looking around at the wide-eyed fish with their mouths gaping open and shut soundlessly, she didn’t count on it.

The bright light she’d mistaken for Heaven’s doorway didn’t diminish until she and her fellow aquatic abductees went past the lip of the ship. Then she goggled in astonishment because ringing the area on all sides were huge vats filled with liquid, oversized fish tanks if she wasn’t mistaken-and not all of them from Earth. A purplish fluid in one certainly didn’t resemble anything she’d ever seen and displayed the occasional black tentacle. Cool, although she wouldn’t plan on going for a swim with whatever resided inside.

As the beam she found herself caught in angled up over the lip of an open vat, she noted something disturbing. All the other tanks were sealed shut. Her mind quickly came to an unwelcome conclusion. If she allowed herself to get dropped into the approaching aquarium, she’d find herself right back in the same spot; drowning.

“Not again,” she muttered. She twisted herself to look around and noted a network of beams holding narrow walkways running above and around the vats. She needed to get onto one of those. Using her arms and legs, she kicked and pulled, much like she would if she were in water, if water were a thick molasses that fought her every inch of the way. Sweat beaded on her brow as she struggled against the beams inertia, her progress slow, slower than the tractor beams implacable movement.