Free Undraland by Mary Twomey Page A

his friend. “I brought you something, but I’ll only show you if you shut up.”
    I heard Jamie strolling toward me for a better look. I fought to remain motionless. “Can I say I’m not terribly shocked you had to knock her out? What? Did she want an actual conversation?”
    “Oh, Jens.” Britta sounded disappointed.             
    Jamie’s voice was almost giddy as Jens fished through his red bag. “Please tell me… Oh, amazing! This phone’s even better than the last one! How much battery does it have left?”
    Jens’s tone was light and familiar with the man. “Not much. Put it on the solar charging pad I got you. I’ll show you how to work it when I come over next. She’s got a few games on there you’ve never tried.”
    I peeked and saw that they were fondling my cell. My eyes flew open and I tried to sit up, clumsy fingers gripping the rough bedding I was laid atop of. “Hey! That’s mine!” Then I started coughing, making my anger less intimidating. When I brought my hand to my mouth, I saw that my sleeve belonged to nothing in my wardrobe. I glanced down and observed with horror that my jeans, green long-sleeved T and purple tank top had been replaced by… a dress.
    I could not recall the last time I’d worn a dress. I didn’t go to my prom, which would’ve been the last logical reason for me to don a girly frock. This one was beige, cut just below my bust, and flowed well past my bare feet. At least I still had purple nail polish on my toes. That was an indicator I’d not been unconscious for days. Tonya and I had given ourselves pedicures the morning before last.
    My hacking cough stayed my cavalcade of questions. Britt or Britta or Brittney or whoever was at my side in an instant, tipping a glass of water to my lips, lending her arm around my back for me to lean against in a sort of cuddle. It was three swallows before it dawned on me that I was drinking out of a cup of liquid I had not poured in a captor situation. My clothes were missing, and I was in a foreign place. I spat the water at Jens, who was on my other side, helping Britta hold me up in a sitting position.
    Jamie laughed at the water dripping down Jens’s face. I scrambled off the bed and bolted clumsily toward the exit, but Jens beat me to it, keeping the front door shut. I evaluated my rural surroundings. I appeared to be in some kind of quaint wood cabin with a roughly hewn floor. It was all one room, save for what I assumed was a bathroom off to the side. Panicked, I snatched an iron poker from the hearth and held it cocked, as if I knew what I was doing with it.
    Britt shouted her alarm, and Jamie gallantly moved in front of her, acting as a human shield.
    “It’s fine, Britta,” Jens assured her with a cocky smile. Oh, how I wanted to knock it off his face. “She won’t do anything. She doesn’t believe in violence. She’s just trying to scare me.”
    Jamie cocked his head to the side, observing my juvenile grip and the stance of a non-fighter. I was trying to copy the swordfighters in The Princess Bride , but knew I was doing a horrible job. I wondered if a deadly “Prepare to die,” might help sell the act. Jamie’s nose scrunched as he watched my every move. “Doesn’t believe in violence? That’s not a thing.”
    “It is in the human world. Not often, but it’s there. She’s never had to hunt for her food, though. Humans can afford that kind of ideal.” Jens addressed me as if I was a kid joking around with a toy knife. “Put it down, Loos. You’ll hurt yourself.” When I didn’t budge, he shook his wet head at me. “What would Martin Luther King Jr. say if he saw you like this?”
    Ouch . Well played, jerk who apparently knows me pretty well. Really should’ve chosen Genghis Khan as my role model. I lowered the weapon, ignoring Jens’s sniggering.
    Britta was holding onto Jamie’s waist, which is why I assume he did not lower his guard right away. Her emerald eyes blinked at me