MYRA

I shouldn't be outside, because once the sun dips, the streets become dark, literally and figuratively.

The embassy is miles away. It will take ages to arrive, especially since Winter got a head start.

I reach the small bridge that connects this part of town to the embassy. Four gangsters block it off. They're charging for passage across. This is illegal, but the city can't afford to distribute police to keep these guys in check.

I pat my back pocket. It's practically empty, just like my lungs. I pull my sweater tighter to my chest and get in line. Coins clank, and sighs weave from the chests of unwilling customers. When it's my turn, I purse my lips and stare at the gangster before me. He's young. There's smudged blood and dirt on his jaw, and his cheeks are healthy from all the food he can afford.

"Thirty cents." He extends his hand. It smells like metal—like greed.

"I don't have anything. Would you take my shoes?"

He looks at my sandals, which sport a few holes. "Listen, bitch. The only payment we'd take from you is pussy or thirty cents. Which will it be?"

I lower my face.

"Get off the line." He takes my bicep, and I latch onto his wrist.

"Morphine," I whisper.

He stills.

As I hopped from jobs and mingled in the city's heart, I learned that morphine is the best currency. It's the only investment that I saved for a rainy day. I need it now, since today became a storm.

"I'll drop some morphine here tomorrow afternoon. Let me through, and I'll return with the payment." I dig into my pocket and pull out my identification card. "If I don't deliver, you can find me at my apartment."

He squints. "If you're lying..."

"I'm not." I'm not stupid. I would never cheat gangsters known for maiming pockets and bodies.

"Go." He nods toward the bridge, and I rush away, adding a new hole to my sandals.

The embassy is easy to spot. It was formerly a factory but has been repurposed as the portal between Earth and Le'vris. It's vast and pristine, but most humans glare at it, hoping it will collapse on itself.

When I reach the factory, I'm met by a group of city workers. The tall metal doors of the factory are closed behind them.

"Mornin', girl," a bored, clean-shaven older man greets. He has a strong New York accent, proof that the apocalypse can't take everything from our city. "We're not accepting applications. Return in the morning."

"I'm not here to apply for the program. I need to speak with my sister. Can I see her, please?"

"In the morning," he repeats.

I want to scream and stomp, but those are luxuries for children and the rich. I'm neither, so I have to think calmly. There's no turning back now. I can't cross the bridge without Winter, so I'll go through the cursed screening process to get inside.

I sit on the sidewalk. Fatigue waltzes with me, making my head bob. Giggles wake me up. Within the next fifteen minutes, a wave of women appears. Some are young, some old, but all are hopeful. They wear their finest while I'm covered in filth, but I have bigger things to worry about.

When the factory doors open, over fifty women pile inside. Long tables with finger snacks line the walls of the massive hall. The women swarm the tables, their airs of sophistication dispersing and their true natures of desperation coming to light. I don't judge them. Hell, I join them because I'm just as hungry. I devour a sandwich and pocket two for Winter.

"Ladies, please enjoy breakfast. I'm sure your trips were long. My name is Madam Cuero, and I will lead your screening."

The buzz in the room calms as the women face the older, elegant madam at the front stage. Her full figure is covered by a black bodycon dress, and her hair is pinned back to reveal cold eyes.

"Three women were chosen yesterday, and two will be picked today. There will be three exams and a lottery to decide the winners. The tests are interview questions, a psychological test, and a physical exam. I wish you the best of luck."

Madam Cuero must know if Winter was sent home, but I'm not too worried. Chances are she wasn't selected and went home.

"All right. You will now be split into teams."

I weave through the women, my sandwiches pressing against my thighs in my pockets. "Excuse me," I call out, hoping to be heard over the other women. "Madam, I need to check if my sister won!"

She exhales and flips through a notebook. "What is her date of birth?"

"May third."

"Hmm...yes, she won."

My heart sinks to my stomach. Is this a joke?

"What's her name?" I ask, but the chatter of the other women drowns me.

I need to find Winter, even if I must win the lottery.

The interview questions are easy: Do you have children? When was your last menstrual period? Any criminal record? Many are disqualified from this round, including those that are pregnant. The psychological test is much more complicated. During the physical exam, I lie on a table. A masked doctor runs a cold machine over my belly and takes a blood sample.

Many fail due to malnutrition and age. In the end, twelve girls remain. The room becomes dull with gloom.

"All right, ladies. It has been a long day." Cuero reaches into a manila envelope and pulls out a slip of paper. "Applicant numbers RNX009 and CVD326 have won the lottery. Congratulations."

I made it?

I take a shaky step forward, ignoring the groans behind me. Once I meet Winter, I'll give up my ticket. Soon all this will be over.

"When do we meet the other winners?" I ask.

"On Le'vris. They have already been teleported, and you will go tonight. Because of fears of terrorism, we cannot keep you girls lingering in the city."

No! Winter can't possibly be across the damn universe. What am I supposed to do now?

There has to be a mistake. Winter had to be disqualified and sent home. This nightmare has to end.

"Are you sure a contestant born May third was accepted?"

Cuero waves her hand. "Yes, yes."

My skin pricks with panic, and an infernal summer blooms within me.

"Her name is Winter?"

"Yes. Now come."

She turns, and I'm left with the choice of following or letting Winter go.

Well, I made it this far. I might as well finish what I started.

I'm escorted through several halls. The deeper I walk into the factory, the dirtier I feel. This place is pristine, like humanity's last temple. There's no rust on the tall metal walls, no shattered windows, and the lights haven't flickered once. The engineers I pass are all dressed in neat white robes, and their glances make me want to walk on my tippy-toes to avoid dirtying the floor.

I arrive at a "decontamination" room and can't figure out the shower knobs. I've been bathing with water buckets for as long as I can remember. Once red water falls from the spray, I struggle with my brown hair for fifteen minutes. It's as knotty as this whole situation. I keep it short to save money on shampoo, but detangling it still makes my arms burn with effort.

There's a knock at the door. "Hurry. Your dragon is waiting for you."

I wipe the steam from the mirror, and it doesn't cut my fingers like the one at home sometimes does. I'm unimpressed by what I find—tired brown eyes lined with dark bags, honey-colored skin, a hollow face with a bulbous nose, and wide lips that are finally healing a cut. The sex workers tell me my thick lashes and full breasts could get me good business, but I don't have their bravery.

My match will surely be disappointed to be paired with me.

I slip into a clean cotton sweatshirt and pants that feel itchy. My skin isn't used to being in new clothing.

I retrieve the sandwich from my pocket and walk out.

Cuero's eyes fall on my hands. "Throw that out."

Throw food out? That's a crime against humanity. Instead of listening, I give the sandwich to a startled guard. Cuero takes us to a truck. It feels awkward to sit in a moving metal box. I've only been in a vehicle a handful of times.

The new facility we're transported to is guarded more heavily than what remains of the White House. There are drones and patrolling men posted everywhere.

"We will go through the portal now," Cuero says while leading the way.

"Portal?" the other participant asks.

"Yes. It's not like we can drive to Le'vris, can we?"

We enter the facility. Many turns, twists, and access codes later, I stand in front of a portal the size of a house. I can see through it. Its circular frame is thick and packed with slabs of metal, wires, bolts, and tablets. Sebastian would have a blast scraping it apart.

There are foreign characters engraved on top.

"Madam, do the dragons speak English?" I ask.

"Of course. They can absorb a language in a month."

And absorb an entire planet in a year.

"Turn it on," Cuero instructs the engineers that sit behind a panel of switches and buttons.

I don't like their whispers or glances. What are they thinking? That I'm the latest sacrificial lamb?

They mess with their computers until the lights dim, and the portal comes to life. Red light crackles in the middle of the machine like it's the portal to hell.

"All right. Go on. Walk through and wait for me on the other side."

CVD326 takes a shy step. This is it for her. She's giving up her people, her planet, in exchange for the unknown. She's braver than me because I fully intend to crawl back home.

When she crosses, Cuero calmly says, "Go," like I'm in line for a carnival ride instead of a mystical machine that connects two universes, collapsing millions of light-years and disrespecting all known physics.

I take a deep breath in. Instead of inching closer, I rip the bandage off and run for it. There's ringing in my ears, pins and needles stabbing my skin, and an endless, hopeless red in my vision. I wobble away from the portal and clench my body to check if any parts were left behind on Earth. The surreal experience has me rattled. I bend over to grip my quivering knees and shakily pull unfamiliar air into my lungs.

Cuero materializes beside me, and the portal powers off. She stands tall, unfazed by the bubble of time and space that we just burst. "Ah, here we are."

This is it. I'm in the domain of the dragons.

We're in a small room with walls of neatly stacked bricks and a smaller, duller portal.

"And the other girls?" I ask, my vision still disoriented. "Can we see them now?"

"Yes. Let me get them."

What will I tell Winter? I didn't plan this far.

The door opens, and I force a smile onto my face. Three women walk in—all diverse and pretty, but none of them is Winter. My stomach shrinks, strangling the sandwich I ate.

"Madam, is one girl missing? My sister isn't here. She was born on May third."

I don't panic yet. Cuero assured me that she won the lottery. Winter has to be here, somewhere.

When a concerned brunette steps forward, I stop breathing. My eyes lock on her lips as she says, "Uh, that's my birthday." I heard the words and saw them form on her lips. There's no denying that I made a grave mistake. Winter is on Earth, and I'm across the universe.

I inhale deeply, air whistling as I force myself to breathe. I've been in worse situations before, and the portal is behind me. It's still possible to turn back and fix this.

"Madam, I'd like to forfeit my ticket, please. I need to return to Earth." I sound strangled. Desperate.

Cuero is amused. "That portal won't open for another six months, child. Didn't you read the contract you signed?"

Crossing the portal didn't knock me off my feet, but her words nearly put me down. I can't possibly be this unlucky. I have no interest in this program, yet I'm expected to spend six months with a dragon determined to sink his claws—and other extremities—into me?

End of sample. This story is Free on Kindle Unlimited:
https://www.amazon.com/author/elainewaters 
link is also in my bio

***

ALSO IN THE SERIES:  Jasmin/The Alien's Liar↓

Jasmin was a part of a Dragon Match program that hoped to offer opportunities to a post-apocalyptic Earth. She was teleported to planet Le'vris and was paired with a dragon, but he was cold toward her. Feeling unwanted, she gave up on the program and returned to Earth. This story is about how she's dragged back to Le'vris and meets another dragon that clearly wants her.

Book 3 is available on www.patreon.com/ancientt