Mary listened to the droning sound that came to her through the wet air and thought of her mother’s soft humming. She wanted her mother to be there now, to hold her and hum softly to her, to soothe her. She drifted toward her mother’s round arms and warm smile on the ghostly crest of that ugly sound.
Then the dread came. It crashed over her like a cold, brown wave and the memories of her mother’s soft touch were washed away. She was in the big chamber. The big chamber was where the droning sound was. The droning was the collective sound from others just like her, others not asleep yet not awake; others unable to move their limbs.
She could turn and lift her head and see and hear and smell. She could not talk, but she could make a deep sound, a groan, if she tried. When the pain came, the groan would be its outlet. The groan would be the dull steam her violated body would vent in its outrage.
She prayed for a miracle. She prayed that when she opened her eyes she would see big, blue sky and bright light. She pressed her eyes closed and prayed hard but when she looked, only the chamber’s ceiling filled her vision. Its black, bubbly surface gave substance to the dread and when the cutting began, the ceiling’s gloom would stamp its dark print on her soul once more.
Mary turned her head slowly and saw the naked body of a young woman. Then she breathed the warm scent of perfume. The woman was new and a splash of luscious scent had been captured with her. The woman looked at Mary, her face slack with paralysis. Mary could not speak, but if she could have spo#ken the result would have been the same. There was nothing to say to this newcomer, no consolation to be offered. There was no comfort where none could exist.
Then her surgeon witch was there, its long head hovering, twisting and looking. Its thin, quick hands moved like rats over her body, feeling here and there with spiderlike squeezes. For the moment, her body was numb to the creature’s touch and she was thankful for it.
There was a motion under her skin, in her neck, deep in the muscles. It was a roiling little pressure she’d grown to know quite well. A grub was moving, and from the feel of it she thought it was moving upwards. As the larvae fed on her tissues, it caused a single sharp note of pain that grew in volume second by unmerciful second. She heard the high-pitched hiss of the witch’s cutter and was relieved that the cutting was starting.
Mary began her retreat from the sound and the growing bite of the cutter and of the pain of the worm and joined her voice with the others.
My Reveiw: July 2013 ~ Review Copies ~
Natural Selection by David Coy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I want to thank the Author David Coy for giving me this book for an honest review. Wow, I liked the characters and how David made you see and believe what was happening to these people to the point one could have nightmares about these aliens coming after them. The things these people went through and being strong enough to be survivors and try to find a way to get out. I am looking forward to reading the other two books as soon as I can fit them in my schedule. Great job very descriptive and horrific.
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