Chapter 22 - Neela #3
“Haha! You’re so delicate, so innocent,” Anatoli sneers.
“You’ll make some buyer very happy, no doubt about that.
Bully’s told us all about the kinds of trade that go on in the galaxies.
Everything’s for sale. Everything has a price.
And me? I’ve chosen to be on the selling side rather than become the product.
And with a face like yours, I’m sure Bully will be pleased.”
He turns away as more men arrive.
The main wall of the hangar dissolves, revealing a massive vehicle.
“Load all the cages into the back,” he orders.
“Put Manu, Julien, Jean-Claude, Yaoti, and Edward in the same cube—they’re headed to the same destination.
If there’s not enough room after that, double up the rest. And hurry up, I want us out of here in thirty minutes.”
An hour later, we’re on the road.
The wolf pups are locked in an isolated, opaque cell.
A group of bear cubs occupy the next one, also behind a sealed wall.
In the other cells packed into this giant truck,
I count the first two: five people Anatoli mentioned—crammed together—destined for “consumption.”
I’m in the third cage with Pallas in my arms, along with a woman named Salome from Arabia Terra.
We’re sitting back to back, trying to give each other as much space as possible.
Then come three more cubes: three women still unconscious in the first, two men in the second.
The journey is long and slow. A vehicle this size must be way harder to handle than my old snowmobile. The prisoners wake one by one.
Paralyzed by fear and confusion, they stay silent, barely daring to sit up and find a less painful position.
About three hours later, during a stop, we get a surprise visit from Anatoli, accompanied by his driver, a guy named Serge.
“Come on, beauty,” Serge calls out. “Anatoli tells me you’re so uptight you’d turn down freedom if we offered it. Me, I think he’s wrong. We need to stop and recharge the truck… Why don’t you come stretch your legs? We can talk… Neela.”
He’s pretty short—shorter than me, even. His face is relaxed, almost innocent. You’d never guess this guy’s in the business of trafficking other humans for alien buyers.
Next to him, Anatoli studies me closely, sizing me up in silence while Serge dematerializes the wall of my cage.
Little Pallas, finally free, bolts toward the nearest tree—only to be intercepted mid-run by a sharp blow from the butt of Anatoli’s rifle.
“Tsk tsk… You’re staying right here, furball,” he says. “Neela, get out. Fast. Before I change my mind.”
With a pained squeak, my young manul stumbles back into my arms.
I stroke him gently, trying to soothe him, then set him down inside the cell.
Carefully, I stretch my legs out of the cage and edge them toward the edge of the truck. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at Salome. There’s two of us, and two of them. Maybe we could overpower them if she helped?
But she shrinks back and avoids my gaze. She clearly has no intention of becoming the center of attention for our two tormentors.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, my legs scream in protest.
The blood, trapped too long by my twisted position, rushes back in all at once, lighting up every nerve in its path. Each fiber of my body aches from the sudden movement.
I take a deep breath and slowly start wiggling my toes, trying to get the blood flowing again and chase away the pins and needles.
We’re stopped in a clearing. The sky is gray, and scattered snow still dots the ground.
“What about the others?” I ask, concerned for their wellbeing.
“Not my problem,” Serge shrugs. “You’re the one I want. I made a deal with Anatoli for you.”
“You what?” I blurt out.
“It’s all about negotiations,” Anatoli cuts in. “Do-yun wants to keep you around as a doctor. I’d rather sell you to Bully. But Serge here wants you for himself.
So you, unlike the others, get a choice. What are you gonna do with it?”
The two men stare at me, one with a smug grin, the other with hopeful eyes.
I offer them a weak, unconvincing smirk.
“See, Serge?” Anatoli laughs. “Told you. Even with a weapon in her hand, she wouldn’t hurt a fly—
not even to save her own life. People like her are so wrapped up in their stupid morals. Especially this one—she’s spent her life caring for others. No, there’s nothing we can make of her. She’s a sheep at heart, ready to walk to the slaughter without making a sound.”
Rage floods through me like never before.
For the first time in my life, I feel a deep, visceral hatred for someone.
This man—who betrayed his people, who murdered the man I love—is mocking me and everything I stand for.
This vile, disgusting creature who sells human lives to gain a few crumbs of power!
My smile tightens into something bitter.
“Hand me your weapon, and I’ll show you just how ‘wrapped up’ I am in my morals,” I say through gritted teeth.
To my surprise, his grin widens. He pulls a gun from his belt in one hand, a knife in the other.
After weighing them both, he offers me the knife—blade first.
Clearly, he’s convinced I won’t do a thing with it. Maybe just wave it around and prove Serge right.
But he’s gone too far.
Kill or be killed—that’s the motto of their New Martian Order, right?
Fine.
I grab the handle of the knife he so kindly offered and, without another thought, lunge straight for his chest.
Oddly enough, after a brief resistance from his insulated suit, the blade sinks into his chest all the way to the hilt.
I don’t even know who’s more shocked—him, staring at me in horror, or me, stunned by what I’ve just done.
I’ve taken a life.
I, who swore to protect them all.
I don’t even know how I managed it. The knife slid right through—no bones in the way, just soft, vulnerable flesh.
Anatoli’s knees give out first.
He clutches the handle sticking out of his chest, unsure whether to pull it out or leave it. He won’t last long, I think.
Probably just a few minutes—his coronary artery’s most likely torn.
Serge rushes to his side, helping him lie down while whispering false promises of healing. I don’t waste time.
I sprint to the cages and unlock them all at once.
Grabbing Pallas, I turn to Salome.
“Come on! We’ve got to go!” I urge her.
But she just stares at the bloody scene, shaking her head and whimpering in fear.
I meet the eyes of the other prisoners, but none of them seem ready to take a chance and run with me.
Didn’t they hear what fate awaits them?
Fine. Their choice.
I dash for the woods and for freedom… alone.