Featherlight Read Online Free PDF

willing to take orders.
    He scowled. Not a very happy camper, I noticed with vague
amusement. The airship lurched, taking off into the air. It took some
concentration to stay balanced. Looks like I wouldn’t be escaping this ship
anytime soon. Oddly enough, for the first time I didn’t care that someone saw
me without hair. The tears that had slipped down my face while my hair was cut
off now seemed so vain and trivial.
    “We are going on a long trip,” he told me smugly, “so I suggest you
take a seat.”
    I was angry but didn’t let my face show it. He apparently wanted some
extreme reaction from me. His type prey on fear. I managed to look uninterested
and bored. His scowl deepened.
     A man walked in from one of the doors and looked at Unhappy Camper. “I
can smell your frustration from the cockpit. What’s going on in here?” he asked
as I decided the words ‘frustration’ and ‘cockpit’ did not need to go in the
same sentence.
    Both men had the same accent as Henry, but heavier.
    I answered, dripping sarcasm, “He was just welcoming me onboard.”
    Unhappy Camper snapped, “Silence! He did not address you!”
    I turned to him and took a step forward. I was going to teach this guy
just what I thought about his behavior. He had better learn fast. My fists were
clenched, ready for another fight.
    The pilot turned to him and hissed, “You idiot! She is a folium , so
I suggest you speak with respect. Go to the front with the rest of the crew in
case you get any ideas.”
    The ship tilted upward suddenly and I was forced to take a step back
to keep my balance. My stomach lurched and I remembered that I no longer had
the strength to fight. Chemotherapy stole that strength from me, along with my
blood cells.
    I tried another form of fighting instead and said, “My name is Jacque.
I have leukemia and am extremely susceptible to infections. I have a high fever
and could die soon. I need medical attention now.”
    As if talking to a 3 year old, my voice was slow and precise so that
my message would be delivered through those thick skulls.
    The pilot here with us pressed a button on the wall and spoke into it,
“Marie? Come help Jacque, please.”
    I need a doctor, not a maid! I thought as a small young woman stepped in the room. Oh man, I
should not have thought that. She could be a doctor for all I know.
    She was also wearing the staple kidnapper trench coat. Her eyes were
downcast, only briefly looking up to ask, “What may I do?”
    The pilot tilted his head in my direction and she bustled over to
gently take my arm. I was surprised that we could almost see eye-to-eye. Not
many women are my height.
    “Come along, dear.”
    I went reluctantly, throwing one last glare at the Unhappy Camper. To
my amusement, he just stared at me open-mouthed while I left with Marie.
     We entered a windowless room in the rear of the plane that had a
small bed, toilet, bathtub, full length mirror, and a large dresser. The room
had a futuristic silver-and-white theme that put me slightly on edge. Like I
wasn’t on edge enough.
    The image in the full length mirror frightened me, until I realized it was me. I looked like I had stomped through a swamp, ridden a tornado,
and then went dumpster diving. In no particular order. My shirt had a rip down
the side and was spotted with mud. My pants were in no better shape. My hat was
long gone, and my bald head was covered in a thin layer of mud. My back began
to hurt, and my black shoes were the only thing in my odd ensemble that looked
decent.
    While I was looking in the mirror, the woman called Marie pulled my
shirt all the way off. I was too tired to care, and there wasn’t much of it
left anyway. As she handed me a large shirt I noticed she had pretty brown eyes
and soft, kind features. She was older, maybe mid-sixties, and reminded me of a
grandmother I always wished I had.
    I gratefully threw the shirt on over my sports bra. The painful
throbbing in my back spread to my chest,