A is for Abduction (The ABCs of Alien Abduction #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

The first thing Emma noticed was the vibration, a low resonant hum in the cold metal surface beneath her.

The next was the air, flat and stale with a faint unpleasant odor that made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Her eyes flew open in sudden panic, and a wave of disorientation swept over her.

Where the hell am I?

She was lying on a metal bench at the back of a small cell.

A cell? She pushed herself up on trembling arms, her head pounding and every muscle in her body aching, then realized that her clothes had disappeared.

All she was wearing was some kind of thin white garment that fastened at two points on her shoulders and each side of her waist.

Easy access, her mind supplied, and she flinched. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the gown but other than the overall ache and a lingering spike of pain at the back of her neck, there were no indications that she’d been assaulted.

Her initial impulse was to rush over to the bars and scream for help, to demand answers, but the part of her that had survived a childhood with a father who was in trouble more often than he wasn’t kept in her place.

Breathe. Think. What do I remember?

She’d been walking home, the December air sharp against her face, carrying the smell of woodsmoke from the houses along Maple Street.

She’d stayed late at school, cleaning up in preparation for the Christmas break, and the early winter dusk had already fallen.

Lights already glowed in most of the windows and the Jacobson’s giant inflatable Santa had been swaying in the breeze.

She’d been thinking about the lesson plans she’d finished, the construction paper snowflakes her second-graders had made, the bottle of wine waiting in her fridge—

Then nothing. A gap in her memory like a skipped track on a record.

Someone had taken her, but who? And why? Given her current state of dress, or rather undress, the possibilities were all too clear. Her stomach roiled at the thought and she fought back a surge of nausea.

I’m a perfectly ordinary twenty-six year-old elementary school teacher. Why would someone kidnap me?

But what other explanation was there? She took a long, deep breath, shoving down her rising panic, and forced herself to stand.

Her legs wobbled like a newborn foal’s, but she locked her knees and stayed upright through sheer stubbornness.

Twenty-three kids depended on her to hold it together when they scraped their knees or forgot their lunch money or cried because someone said something mean at recess.

She’d handled vomit on her shoes, a fire drill during a thunderstorm, and Tyler Martin’s weekly meltdowns about math. She could handle this.

The cell was small and cold, the walls and floor made of the same dull metal, featureless except for the bench across the back and a grate in the center of the floor.

She cautiously approached the bars but all she could see was a narrow metal corridor curving away on either side.

Curving? Something about that struck her as odd, but she pushed it aside.

There were more cells lining both sides of the corridor but she couldn’t see into any of them except the one across from her and it appeared to be empty.

Metal clanged somewhere in the distance—a door opening—and she instinctively backed up, retreating to the metal bench as heavy footsteps approached.

Two men dressed in grey coveralls and boots appeared in front of her cell as the unpleasant odor intensified.

They were both short and stocky with heavy brow ridges and pronounced jaws.

The lascivious expression on their faces made her shiver internally, but she clenched her fists and raised her chin, refusing to show fear.

“Awake at last,” the one on the right said, and she flinched.

He wasn’t speaking English. She understood what he was saying, but she could hear something else beneath the words, something harsh and guttural.

“Took long enough. Humans are such fragile things,” the other one said, and there was that same disconcerting echo beneath his words.

Humans. Which meant... They weren’t.

She looked at them more closely, and this time she noticed the subtle differences in bone structure, the proportions that were just slightly wrong.

Aliens. That knowledge combined with the vibration she could still feel beneath her feet and the curved corridor came together with a horrifying clarity.

I’m on an alien ship. The knowledge settled over her like a suffocating blanket.

“You don’t need to worry about this one,” the first guard said with a leer. “She’s got plenty of meat on her.”

“Enough to make a profit?” the second one asked.

“Yeah. Maybe not top tier, but she’ll fetch a good price. Enough to make it worth the risk.”

She barely heard the rest of their conversation.

They were aliens and they were going to sell her.

The sick feeling in her stomach intensified and this time she couldn’t stop it.

She barely made it to the grate in time to throw up.

The two guards laughed as she heaved, then walked away, still talking about their anticipated profits.

Her stomach empty and her body shaking, she pushed herself back against the wall just as a stream of water came from the ceiling over the grate.

She caught enough of it to rinse out her mouth and wash her face before it stopped again.

Too weak and dizzy to stand, she leaned back against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest.

How could this have happened to me? She’d finally achieved the safe, comfortable life she’d always wanted—a job she loved, a cozy cottage in the quiet town, a small circle of good friends and neighbors—and it had been ripped away from her.

What would her students think when she didn’t show up after winter break? She’d finally started coaxing shy little Jenny Rawlins out of her shell. Would a new teacher be as patient, or would Jenny retreat again.

She was supposed to be making Christmas cookies with her best friend Alison tomorrow.

Had tomorrow already come and gone? What would Alison think when she found an empty house and no answers?

Emma knew she’d go to the police, but they wouldn’t find her and Alison would spend the rest of her life wondering.

Even her father… He would pop up at some point, just as he always did when he was between schemes or feeling sentimental.

He’d show up with his charming smile and, depending on the success of his latest venture, a bunch of wildflowers or a ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne, and she wouldn’t be there.

The tears came despite her best efforts—hot and silent, streaming down her face and dripping onto the white gown.

Eventually the tears stopped, reduced to a few shuddering breaths. The crying jag had left her hollow, scraped clean, and in the emptiness something harder was taking root.

I will not be sold. I will not let them win.

She didn’t know how she was going to escape, but somehow, she would. She would observe. She would learn. She would find out what kind of creatures these were, what their weaknesses might be, what opportunities existed for—

For what? Overpowering creatures twice her size? Hacking alien technology she couldn’t even identify? Somehow piloting a spaceship when she could barely parallel park?

One step at a time.

She climbed to her feet. Her legs still shook, but less now. And with the same determination that had carried her through her chaotic childhood, she began a systematic examination of her cell. Every system had a weakness; she just had to find it.