“Elvis Presley? One, two, hotdog.”
Grimacing against the noise, I press a hand to my ear to make the gibberish stop. Waking up from a bender isn’t my idea of a good time, and I always swear that I’ll never drink again when the hangover headache starts. And the nausea, and the sensitivity to light.
It’s my chest that aches right now. Downright hurts if I’m being honest. My head feels okay, and as I open my eyes, the light doesn’t seem to bother me.
“Arial, I promise I’m never drinking again.”
Rolling onto my side, I wince as a sharp pinch hollows out my left breast. Groaning, I lie flat again and tentatively touch the spot. Bare skin and a lumpy patch of fabric meet my touch. Wait a minute… am I naked?
“Arial?”
Where the hell am I?
Patting my chest with both hands, I realize that I am indeed naked. A rough brown sheet is pulled up to my navel, and yup, I’m naked underneath that, too. What the hell? Touching again over my left breast I glanced down and see a bandage taped over my chest. I am exquisitely tender beneath the gauze but that doesn’t stop me from poking it twice as I try to recall what the hell happened.
It comes back at me in a rush. Oh, shit! Yanking the sheet up to my chin as I sit, I look desperately at my surroundings. I’m on a long, white bed in the center of a small room. Everything is white. The floors, the ceiling, the wall. Bright lights shine overhead. The walls are solid without a window or a door anywhere. I remember the portal coming out of my phone and sucking me in. Then, spitting me out onto the heavily pebbled ground. I’d been surrounded by creatures, aliens—the white man.
And then the bitch stabbed me.
Lightly touching my mouth, I find my lower lip is puffy and sore.
“Zoo, tiny, watermelon goldfish crackers.”
The words come from overhead, surrounding me like the voice of God. Gripping the sheet like a lifeline I look around, but no one is there.
“Zoo, tiny, watermelon goldfish crackers!”
The nonsensical words boom louder, causing a reverberation through the room. I understand the words as English, but they’re nonsensical.
“You’re not making any sense.”
A white-hot, searing pain flares behind my right ear and streaks down my neck to the top of my spine. Wincing, I grab at the spot and palpate a thin ridge running from my ear to the bottom of my neck. It’s hot and pulsating to the touch.
“What did you do to me? Oh, my God!”
Scratching at the spot, I try and dig out whatever they’ve put inside me, but that area of my skin feels hard, like plastic. There’s no give or suppleness to the flesh. My stomach bottoms out. Have I been probed? Altered?
Am I a cyborg now?
“You are this assassin sent which world from?”
The domineering male voice surrounds me and does nothing to lessen my panic. My brain latches onto the words as I try to make sense of them.
“Where am I?”
“Tala Furi.”
Tala Furi? “Am I in Europe?”
I’m scrambling to find familiar ground, to find some inclination that I am still on earth.
“Galaxy X-1.29 Zegot Universe. You were sent to assassinate the priest of Tala Furi. Your signature came from an unknown galaxy. Identify.”
Assassinate. Zegot universe. Galaxy X?
The updates on our phones must have been more than just an annoyance. That’s why the message Arial received was so aggressive. It was a warning that something terrible was going to happen if we didn’t complete the update. My phone literally opened a portal to a different universe. But, what about Arial?
Sliding off the bed, I wrap the sheet around me like a dress and hold it tight near my armpit.
