My Alpha Savage

Kidnapped

HAZEL MOREAU

24 hours before

The wire bin was labeled wrong again.

Sighing in frustration, I crouched beside it, counting through coils of copper and rusted bolts with a half-dead marker in my hand and a clipboard balanced on my knee. Everything smelled like dust and engine oil, and the back of my throat itched. I’d been doing this for hours, but I couldn’t remember the last number I wrote down.

Six? No. Seven. Maybe. We'll stick with seven.

I scratched a smudge off the paper and stared at it like it might make sense if I just looked hard enough. It didn’t.

My brain felt like it was underwater.

“Hey.” A voice came from the front counter. “Did you die back there or just find the love of your life in a pile of copper?”

Tina.

I blinked and looked up. She was leaning sideways on the counter, arms crossed, chewing gum, and raising a brow like always. Her black work vest was half unzipped and covered in grime, but somehow she made it look cool. Unlike me, who looked like I'd been run over twice.

I tried to smile. “Sorry. Just… spaced out.”

She popped her gum. “That’s the third time today.”

I shrugged. "Yeah. I’m just tired.”

Tina tilted her head, studying me. “Are you sure that’s all?”

I nodded, even though it wasn’t.

She didn’t push, which I was grateful for. Tina wasn’t the clingy type. She’d helped me get this job when I first moved out here, and over the past year, she’d turned into the closest thing I had to a friend. Still, she didn’t know the full truth. Not about me. Not about what I was.

“Alright,” she said, tossing me a water bottle. “Drink up before you pass out. Then get your ass up front. We’ve got, like, three people out there, and I could really use some help persuading them to actually buy something."

I caught the bottle clumsily. “On it.”

She disappeared back toward the register, and I sat there for another second before twisting the cap off and taking a long drink. The water was warm. I didn’t care.

My brother would’ve scolded me for zoning out like that. He always said I had a bad habit of disappearing into my head, even when we were kids. He used to flick the back of my ear and tell me to stay present. Alert. 'You never knew what was out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to grab you,' Ezra would say to me.

It was the only reason I’d made it this far.

When we ran away, I was sixteen. He was nineteen and angry at the world, at our father for dying, and at our mother for marrying a shitty man who wanted to sell me off as soon as I turned sixteen. He took care of me and found us shelter, and it's been just the two of us since then. He never let anyone get too close, afraid that they might discover the truth. Even with the suppressants, it was a risk every day for me to be out in the Outlands.

And now he was gone.

I swallowed hard and pressed the bottle to my forehead. It was still warm, but it helped.

He should’ve come back two nights ago. It's been almost a week since he left for a business deal up north. I hadn't wanted him to go, but he convinced me otherwise. 'It'll bring good coins,' he said, his mind already made up.

Tina’s voice called again, snapping me out of my thoughts again.

I stood, tucking the clipboard under my arm, and forced my feet to move.

As much as I wanted to sit there and sulk all day, I had work to do.

The rest of the day passed quietly.

A man came in looking for a broken hover fan blade. A woman asked if we sold scrap aluminum in bulk. Tina argued with someone about whether a bolt from a pre-fall engine would work in a plasma lock. I nodded along, moved boxes, and wiped shelves. Smiled when I was supposed to. Spoke when I needed to.

But every time the bell above the shop door rang, my heart jumped, hoping he'd walk through the door.

But it was never him.

^^^

By the time we closed, the sky outside had gone gray-blue. Tina locked the front door and tossed her keys in her pocket, watching me as I grabbed my bag.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

She didn’t believe me. I could see it in her eyes.

But she didn’t push again. “Alright. Get some sleep. And eat something that’s not a protein bar, okay? You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

I gave her a half-hearted salute and turned toward the street.

She waited until I rounded the corner before heading off in the opposite direction.

I walked fast, not because I was scared—this part of the outlands wasn’t that dangerous if you stayed on the main paths—but because I was hoping that he'd be home by now. Safe.

My boots echoed against the concrete as I turned down my street. The lights were dim, a few flickering lamplights struggling to hold off the dark. My building was just ahead. I reached for my keys.

And stopped.

Something… shifted in a corner. I stiffened, glancing around, but saw nothing unusual. But as I continued walking, a prickling sensation settled on the back of my neck, like someone was watching me.

I glanced behind me again.

Nothing.

Just the street. Empty.

I shook it off, blaming it on my nerves and lack of sleep. I hadn't eaten anything since that energy bar around noon. It was probably my hunger playing tricks on me.

I climbed the steps to the door and slid the key into the lock.

Then I heard a sharp breath behind me.

Panicked, I turned, but something grabbed me, arms around my waist and a cloth over my mouth.

I thrashed, kicked back, and screamed into the fabric, but it was soaked with something strong, and I immediately felt dizzy.

The world tilted. My limbs turned heavy first, then useless. I heard my own heartbeat thunder in my ears as everything around me went quiet, like I’d fallen underwater. Distant footsteps. A low grunt. Something pressing against my ribs. And then darkness.

^^^

I woke up gasping.

The air stank of sweat, blood, and something sour beneath it all. My eyes wouldn’t focus. My head pulsed with a sluggish throb, and my limbs were slow to respond.

Where was I?

Not my apartment. Not the street.

I blinked, struggling to sit up. Cold concrete dug into my back. The room was dimly lit by a single bare bulb swinging from the ceiling. My wrists were bound, not tightly, but enough to keep me from flailing.

My throat burned.

I coughed and tried to move again, then I saw him.

Ezra.

He was on the other side of the room, on his knees, barely upright. His arms were pulled behind him, chained to a hook in the floor. Blood ran down the side of his face. One eye swollen shut. His head hung forward, chest rising and falling in short, shallow gasps.

No!

I made a sound, small, broken, and involuntary.

He stirred. His head lifted just slightly, and his good eye found mine. “Hazel,” he rasped.

“Don’t,” someone growled.

I didn’t even see them until they moved. Two figures stepped into the light, both tall, both armed. One of them reached for me when I lunged forward instinctively.

“No!” I screamed, kicking, trying to crawl to him.

They grabbed me before I got far, hands rough, dragging me backward, pinning me down.

“Stop it!” I shrieked. “Let me go; he’s hurt; he needs help.”

“Shut it,” the taller one hissed.

A fist connected with my brother’s ribs. He grunted and slumped sideways, coughing hard.

I screamed again. Then kept beating him, again and again, raining blows without mercy.

But all I could do was beg, “Please,” I begged, breath ragged. My vision blurred. Not from the drug this time, but tears, hot and helpless, rising in my throat. I choked on them, sobbing.

They didn’t hit him where it would kill him. They knew exactly what they were doing. I screamed until my throat went raw, but no one listened.

“Please. Please, don’t hurt him. I’ll do anything. Please.”