2 - Taken

"What!" I exclaimed, nearly jumping out of my seat. Missing flights? My mind flickered back to my mom, who was supposed to be boarding a plane right about now. Had something bad happened to her? What was going on! My mind was buzzing—it was as if the entire world had just been flipped on its head.

Seemingly unfazed by what was going on in the world around her, the news anchor continued, "There's also been reports of a strange weather phenomenon appearing in the sky—a blue, translucent shimmering overhead. Experts are still struggling to pinpoint the source of the phenomenon, but with communications blacked out and many electronic devices and services no longer functioning, it has been difficult thus far to collect information..."

I turned the television's volume up high, and then ran over to the phone to see if I could get a hold of someone. I panicked a little when I realized the line was dead, but I told myself to remain calm. The news person said there were communications blackouts, but it couldn't be that serious, could it? Maybe there'd been a power blowout somewhere, and it was affecting other services. It's not like the world was about to end or anything.

Was it?

Then I remembered what the news had said about the sky, and I ran over to the window. My eyes widened; it was cloudy that day, but I could see enough of the sky to see that something was definitely off about it. The color was different, darker, and it crackled and rippled, like an ocean of electricity over our heads. I looked into the distance, trying to find the end of the foreign blueness, but I couldn't see any seam in the horizon.

What I did spot in the distance, however, was a vehicle coming up our driveway. I frowned; who on earth could that be? Whoever they were, they were driving a big black truck—almost like an over-sized UPS vehicle. But then I caught a glimpse of the dark-clad men sitting in the front, all of them wearing face-obscuring helmets, and I had the sinking feeling that these guys weren't just here to drop off a couple packages. They're after the Flock, was the first thought that popped into my head. What would they do when they didn't find them here?

To compound all the problems, of course, I heard the broadcast coming from the television suddenly change. "Inhabitants of North America," a male voice began, "as you have probably already realized, almost all forms of local and international communication have been severed, and airplanes and ships are now unable to cross the ocean due to an electromagnetic barrier that has been erected. North America is, in essence, cut off from the rest of the world."

I wanted to stick around and stare at the TV in disbelief, but already the men in the black truck were pulling up to the house. I panicked; they were after the Flock, but what would they do if they found me here? According to Iggy, evil henchmen gravitated towards cruelty and sadism; they were not people you wanted to have a run-in with, whether you were their primary target or not. I needed to hide, and fast. But where? I fell back from the window and ran upstairs, looking for a place where I wouldn't be found.

The television was still playing at full blast, and I continued to listen as I scrambled for a place to hide. "I and the distinguished men and women accompanying me now have joined together in an attempt to create a new civilization, one unlike any other the world has ever known. Do not be alarmed by the sudden presence of our enforcement and collection officers, who have been given the crucial task of ensuring order is maintained during this monumental transition." I scurried into Mom's walk-in closet and crouched down amongst the clothes and boxes, just as I heard someone enter the house downstairs. Ugh, Iggy must have forgotten to lock the front door!

"It is also their task to transport the populace's disabled masses to the newly established processing facilities, where each invalid will be properly cared for until such a time when they can serve their new civilization effectively—and that time will come, ladies and gentlemen. Nobody shall miss out on the opportunity to contribute to the formation of this new nation: a new North America to usher in a fresh era." Chills ran down my spine as I strained to hear what the person on TV was saying. This was insane. Things like these couldn't really happen, could they?

"Search the entire house," I heard a gruff voice order, "She's around here somewhere." She? Which she were they looking for? Angel, Nudge, even my mother were big kidnapping targets. If that's who they were looking for, they were sorely out of luck.

Still, I didn't want to be found by these intruders, so I covered myself with a nearby laundry pile and held my breath as I listened to them search the entire first floor. How many of them were there, I wondered. More than two, but not so many as ten. Four? Six? I wanted to scream when a couple of them ran up the stairs to check the upper rooms, but I bit down on my lip, willing myself not to whimper. Don't freak out, I ordered myself, Max wouldn't freak out. Of course, she also wouldn't have hid inside of a closet either. She would have punched out the nearest baddie and then escaped out a window.

"I'll check the master bedroom," one of the men volunteered. I froze when I heard the bedroom door swing open, and somebody stepped inside. I thought about pulling a Max, trying to incapacitate the intruder and then making a run for it. After all, I was useless to them; they wouldn't waste time or energy chasing an expendable human who happened to slip through their fingers. But I could still hear people moving downstairs, and what in this closet could I possibly use to attack an enemy intruder, the contents of Mom's underwear drawer? I think not.

The footsteps in Mom's room grew closer, and I tensed, praying my body wouldn't do anything to give me away. My mind was in panic mode. What if I hadn't hidden myself well enough amongst the clothes? What if I stuck out funny, or part of my leg was showing? What if—

Then the door creaked open, and all thinking ceased.

"We do not want to harm anyone in our attempt to create a better society," the propaganda on the television filled the empty space where my thoughts once resided, "but some people must be put aside for the good of all, and some excesses of life cast aside in order to forge this new world. Do not be afraid, if this is the case for you or your loved ones. Anything our enforcement and collection officers do is for the good of all, in the name of peace, order, and prosperity. Do not be afraid to put aside your life and lifestyle in the name of progress."

There was a long pause—not in the television dialogue, but in the world as a whole—as the intruder stood at the doorway of the closet. I sat frozen in fear, waiting for him to spot me and drag me out of my hiding place.

Except, he didn't. After a couple of seconds, he abandoned the closet to keep searching.

I felt a pressure release when I heard him turn around and walk away, but I waited another second before allowing myself a quiet sigh of relief. That was close.

"She's not here," I heard my almost-discoverer say, converging with the others at the bottom of the stairs.

"She has to be," another man contradicted, "the tracker says so."

"I'm getting impatient," one of them barked, "somebody bring the tracker in here; if we fine-tune the settings it'll point us right to her."

Footsteps ran out of the house, and then returned indoors a few seconds later. "Here it is, adjusted and ready." I couldn't tell for sure over the noise of the TV, but I thought I could hear a beeping sound coming from downstairs. A tracking device... but what was it tracking?

The intruders scurried as they ran a sweep of the downstairs, muttering amongst themselves as they followed the tracker's signal. "Upstairs," I heard one of them declare, and the group of them ran back to the staircase and stormed back upstairs. I struggled not to hyperventilate. Please, not again, I thought, as I prepared myself for the worst.

Even so, I was still startled when one of them cried, "In here!" and barged into my mother's room. I could hear the beeping of the tracker very clearly now, it's sharp, rhythmic tones similar to the sound a metal detector makes when it's close to finding something in the sand. "Search everything," one of the voices, the leader I guessed, ordered.

What—but before I could even finish that thought an unbelievably strong hand reached down and grabbed me out of the laundry pile, jerking me to my feet. "Found her!" he declared, forcing me out of the closet so the others could see me. They all wore the same black outfits and visored helmets, giving them a frightening "evil invading forces" look.

"No!" I began, certain they'd gotten me mixed up with someone else, "I'm not who you want! Please don't hurt—" but before I could finish that statement one of them held the tracker up to me, and I winced when it shrilled loudly.

"It's her," he declared, "escort her downstairs to the transporter."

Before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening my arms were pinned behind my back and I was being shoved out the door and into the hallway. The dark troopers—there was four of them—escorted me down the stairs and towards the front door.

It was about then that I began to freak out.

"No, please!" I pleaded, thrashing uselessly against my captor's iron grip, "I'm not who you want!" They didn't want me—they must think I'm a mutant! There's some mistake, there just had to be! "Do not resist," the man on the TV droned from the living room, "do not fight the important changes that are happening around you. You cannot fight progress."

"Stop struggling," one of the men in black growled, "or we will have to sedate you."

"I'm not going!" I shouted, "Don't take me; I'm no good to you!"

"Everyone has something to offer to the new order," the TV contradicted, "do not be afraid to serve your new government."

"No!" I screamed, refusing to walk any further. I was dragged effortlessly across the floor.

"Sedate her," one of my kidnappers ordered, "Keeping her conscious is pointless."

"Stop it!" I fought hard, but not hard enough. I felt a needle slide in and out of my arm, and in less than a second the world started going fuzzy. My legs gave out beneath me, and I felt the man restraining me callously hoist me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. I wanted to scream, wanted to dig my fingernails into his face and scratch his eyes out, but I was fading fast.

The last thing I heard was the sound of the television, which was still turned on in the living room. "This is a new civilization, a new... a new empire," the man onscreen said, "yes, a new empire ushered in by a new government—a supreme order of leadership. We are the Supremacy, and we will lead the way into the new world. With your help, we will create our empire."