Author's Note: Sydney…you made my day. I'll try to tone down the cussing (I'm always surprised that I make characters who seem to have to use profanity when I don't swear myself). Luckily, Amara is not that type of girl…she was just ready to die in that last chapter.

The First Cage

Eleven months ago…

Amara Richards woke up in a cage crammed with at least twenty other humans. If she believed in God, she wondered whether she'd be thanking Him for giving her a spot in the corner where there was better ventilation or cursing him for letting her get captured and stuck in the cage in the first place. Amara squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head on one of the cold metal bars. At least, she assumed she'd been captured. All she could remember was walking home, and then…someone shoving her in the cage. In between…there was nothing. She scanned the other humans—a diverse mixture of ages, races, and sexes—they were beginning to wake up as well. I doubt I'd volunteer for this. Right now, it all seemed like a sick reality-TV show.

She turned around and peered into the dim space beyond the bars. A dozen other cages filled with a variety of strange creatures littered the windowless room. A group of what looked like giant weasels paced inside the closest cage. Some blue vaguely elephantine creatures sat quietly in another. Amara bit her lip—they looked familiar. Another cage held some reptilian creatures that hissed at her when they noticed her staring at them. She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at them and instead turned her back on them, contenting herself with watching her fellow humans.

A lanky sixteen-year-old with pale red hair stood and stretched. "Congratulations, fellow Earthlings," he said with a sarcastic smile, "we've just discovered that, yes, there is life on other planets!"

Another redhead who looked like the boy's sister yanked him down. "Shut up, Jake. Why can't you be a pessimist like a normal person?" She nodded to the other people around them who were sobbing, praying, and jabbering in confusion and distress.

A large Italian woman whipped out her cell phone and attempted to make a call. Several others followed suit, furiously punching numbers and practically screaming into the receiver.

"Who are they going to call? 911?" Jake huffed, batting away his sister's hands as she tried to cover his mouth. "Can you imagine, Kat? Excuse me, operator, but I've been abducted by aliens and need immediate assistance…"

"Please don't start Jake…" Kat moaned.

"Maybe they have God's number—that might be helpful…"

Amara felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. A woman with thin, light brown hair cut in a bob and wide, brown eyes gazed sheepishly at her. Her body was that of a twenty-four-or twenty-five-year-old, but something in her eyes, the childish fear, hinted that her mind was no smarter than a six-year-old's. "'Scuse me," she whispered, biting her lip, "M-my name is Amy."

Amara dredged up her warmest smile. "Hello, Amy. I'm Amara."

"Amara." Amy rolled the new name around on her tongue until she was sure she would remember it. "That's a pretty name."

"You have a pretty name, too."

Amy blushed and scooted closer to Amara, leaning against her side. She was quiet for a moment, and Amara went back to inspecting the other captives. A balding man with glasses was conferring in a hushed voice with six other men, their faces intense.

"Um, Amara?" Amy asked.

"Yes?" The balding man made a slashing gesture across his throat.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know where we are…so I can't even guess where we are going, Amy." The group of men seemed to have made a decision. They began whispering to the other prisoners around them.

"I told my mommy I'd be home before supper…." Amy's voice trembled, and Amara brought her full attention back to the scared adult-child cuddled against her.

"Are you scared?" she asked, wrapping an arm around Amy's shaking shoulders. Amy nodded. "Of what?"

"I'm lost. What if I can never find home?"

"Well, first of all, you don't have to worried about being lost anymore because I've found you." Amy brightened at that. "And second, I promise I'll help you find your way home."

"Really?"

"Really, but you have to do something for me as well."

Amy's face fell, and she clasped and unclasped her hands. "W-what?"

Amara smiled. "You'll have to help me find my way home too. Do you think you can do that?"

Amy was silent for a long time, thinking. Finally, she spoke, looking up into Amara's face: "I can help."

"That's all I'm asking—we'll stick together right?"

"Right." Amy beamed.

"Excuse me." Both Amy and Amara started. The balding man with glasses crouched in front of them. "You both speak English, correct?"

"Yes," Amara answered.

"Good," the man sighed, "look, we're going to try to bust out of here. One of the others has managed to communicate with those weasel-looking aliens, and they are also willing to mutiny if we can get them out. We'll need everyone's help…we don't know what we're up against, but the weasels seem confidant enough. Are you both willing to fight?"

"Of course, Mr.…" Amara began.

"Just call me Mendelssohn."

"All right, Mendelssohn, I'm willing to fight but…." Amara nodded at Amy who had begun to whimper.

Mendelssohn's brow furrowed. "How old are you…" He glanced at Amara who mouthed 'Amy.' "…Amy?"

"I'm supposed to be twenty-four," Amy mumbled without looking up, "but God accident'ly stuck my age…I've asked him to un-stick it a bunch of times."

"Great…a retard," Mendelssohn said, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were closed so he didn't see the vicious glare Amara threw at him. "Okay…we can deal with this—I'd hoped the youngest kid we had was that eleven-year-old, but…" He opened his eyes and pointed to Amara. "You are in charge of her and the other kids—they're eleven and twelve. You'll stay in this cage until the fighting dies down, okay? I hope we can get our hands on some weapons…if we do I'll make sure you get one." He paused and looked her up and down. Amara wondered if he was seeing her for the first time. She was nineteen, but was often mistaken for a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old because she was so short—scarcely over five feet. Her face looked young, too: small, heart-shaped and almost lost in her thick, shoulder-length brown hair. She kept her gray-green eyes carefully blank as the man scrutinized her. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm in college...and to answer your next question: no, I have never held or fired a gun."

Mendelssohn sighed. "Fine—I can't really be picky." He turned to go.

"How, exactly, are you planning on getting out of this cage?"

The balding man turned and flashed Amara a slight smile. "Those idiots who abducted us (whoever they are) made two big mistakes. One: underestimating humans, and two: picking up an engineer—he says the cage is pretty shoddy, and we should be able to lift out some of the bars if we apply pressure to the right places. If we're lucky, our dear captors won't see what hit them. We'll pull a Cinquez."

Amara frowned as Mendelssohn moved back to his place. They were taking a big chance—the plan left more to luck than she liked. But what other options were there? Amara doubted that whoever had abducted them wanted to feed them cookie dough while giving them pedicures. Could they—could she—accept slavery…or worse? No…for once she had to agree that it was better to go down fighting Even if they won—she sighed. They might never get back to Earth. One of Amy's hands slid into hers, and Amara gave it a comforting squeeze. She was a natural loner, but it was nice to have someone to look out for—it kept her from worrying about herself.

Across the cage, Jake was trying to get his sister to laugh. "How can you be so glum, Kat? We are about to attack our invisible captors with the help of some giant rodents (and maybe those stuffed elephants) and take over something we can only assume is a spaceship. How cool is that!"