Chapter 7: Why?
1113 Words
“Why did they bring us here?” A third one asked. He was a Caucasian in his late twenties, about five feet and ten inches in height, a bit muscular with short dark blond hair, light blue eyes, long high-bridged nose and plump pinkish lips.
Bituin, of course, had no answer to those questions. She quickly scanned the dimly lit room. There were at least a hundred of them there. They were mostly in their early to late twenties. It seemed that they were all chosen in that age bracket.
But why?
Some women became hysterical. They clamored at the door. The men also shouted, wanting to get out. Those who had bruises as they were beaten earlier went on to bang the walls. Even Bituin circled to see where they could possibly escape. She noticed there were cameras in every corner of the room. Someone must be monitoring them. Or that someone was plural. Maybe there were many eyes that observed them at the moment.
“Stop banging the walls!” An Asian-looking man in the crowd admonished them.
They all turned to him, who stood in the middle of the room. Others glared at him with such hostility that they appeared ready to bash him anytime.
“It won’t help. Just stay somewhere here, and we wait!” he added.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen to us if we’ll just wait!” the winsome Black woman reasoned in a hard tone. She had long dreadlock bleached hair, voluptuous body, around five feet and eight inches in height and thick dark lips. With her accent, Bituin weighed whether she was a Canadian or an American.
“And do you think you can escape from here?” the Asian guy pointed out.
A tall ebony-skinned man strode purposely toward him, shoving others aside, and grabbed the Asian guy by the robe lapels. Their faces were too close, and both heaved. While the others waited for what was going to happen, Bituin had her back flat against the wall, observing the others.
“Get off me!” The Asian with only an average height and build looked small compared to the Black guy. He swatted the latter’s hand to remove it from him.
Other men tried to get the Black off the Asian man. And before Bituin knew it, scrimmage ensued.
Ah, men! she mused disapprovingly.
Suddenly, she felt something sting her around the neck. The next time she knew, she dropped and shook violently, just like all the others that were stunned by the neckbands.
Bituin almost lost her consciousness, cursing in her head as she felt the intense pain.
“You idiots!” she shouted. But it came out as a whisper. She was panting.
In a couple of minutes, she was fine and could sit up. She leaned against the wall, folding one knee and watching the others who hadn’t recovered yet from being stunned. She calculated it would take them around fifteen or so to recuperate.
Does this mean I am the only one here with nanobots in my system?
She heard their ragged breaths while their bodies looked limp and dead beat. The Black woman with dreadlocks sniffled and cried, while the others whimpered and murmured something inaudible.
“We’re gonna die here!” the dark-skinned female mumbled.
“Don’t say that!” the Caucasian guy with light blue eyes disagreed almost vehemently. Even with just a few words, he heaved as if it was an ordeal for him. “We’ll get out of here alive!” He threw the Black beauty with a glare. They were just a few meters away from each other, separated by a few other people.
He began to crawl toward Bituin and sat beside her, after a few more minutes. She turned her head to look at him but didn’t say anything.
“I’m Rhett Mitchell from Pennsylvania.” He offered a hand that Bituin stared for a long moment. “And you?”
She didn’t answer and didn’t take his hand either.
“Okay,” he said and shrugged, dropping his hand. “I see you’re very friendly. Peachy!”
She didn’t bother to say anything. She just watched the sable-colored woman creep toward them and sat at the other side, almost sandwiching Bituin between her and Rhett.
“How come you are so calm? Aren’t you afraid what those green ETs might do to us? What if they would eat us one by one?” the dark-skinned woman addressed Bituin. “I’m Shanice from Canada, by the way.”
“They would have already taken one or more of us before arriving here if they wanted our meat or bones,” Bituin simply articulated.
“So, do you think they have other plans for us? What does that alphanumeric thing they assigned to us mean anyway?” Rhett asked, dark blond brows furrowing.
“I’m Chao, Chinese-American, if you want to know,” the Asian guy chimed in.
None of them spoke though.
“SF means Slave Fighter,” he added. On all fours, he went closer to them.
Bituin’s head whipped to the Asian guy that had something to do with their being stunned a little while ago. “What did you say?”
“I just heard one of those green ones speak to each other,” he replied with a careless gesture of his hand.
“That can’t be. I’m no fighter!” twenty-six-year-old Shanice protested. “I’m just a nurse!”
“And I’m a gym instructor,” Rhett butted in as well.
“Me, on the other hand, I’m just a chef. Never in my twenty-nine years on Earth had I imagined I’m going to be captured like this.”
Bituin laughed almost hysterically. They all stared at her, while the rest of the stunned people found their own places to sit comfortably.
“Captured? How?” Bituin asked them.
“It was past two in the morning, I was on my way home after getting off work from the restaurant I’m working at. And then, someone just grabbed me, pulled me into a black van and put me to sleep. Now, here I am,” Chao recounted. His eyes wavered, and he swallowed. His barely there Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
Bituin’s jaw hung.
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