Stowaway | Invasion Survivor Book Three | Chapter Two
Paige was about to ask Angela just that when someone decided to loudly interfere. “Hey, you girl! Better take that crazy woman out of here. You get out of here as well. Go with the other stowaways.”
Paige turned to see who spoke up, wanting to share her two cents on the matter. She was already annoyed and frustrated so this would be great therapy for her.
“Yeah,” someone else chipped in. “We paid a high price for our spot on this trip, and Genesis is designed for twenty people. All of those have paid! You haven’t!”
“Then you better ask for a refund,” Paige snapped back. “Oh, wait, there’s no more planet Earth, you morons. You could have paid for your seats using sticks or rocks! Earth currency means nothing anymore, so take your money and shove it up...”
“Paige,” AJ jerked her away.
She didn't even notice she was walking closer to the people who were complaining. Paige needed to calm down, not escalate the situation, but it was all too easy to lose her temper and let those idiots know precisely what was on her mind.
Idiots, all of them! She fumed. How they could even think about money or status at this moment was beyond her. But that was possibly due to the fact that she was never filthy rich to begin with.
“How many stowaways are there?” someone else asked in a snooty voice, though it was much quieter.
“More than thirty,” came the short reply.
Paige was surprised by those numbers. At first, she felt like there were hundreds of them, but that had been her fear exaggerating things.
“Instead of being comfortable, we’re now to be crowded in with them!” a woman said with a snort. “I didn’t pay for this.” She flicked her hair, and even though she was dressed comfortably like the rest of them, Paige imagined her covered in diamonds and draped with a fur coat and a glass of champagne in her hand.
This lady is a moron! Paige concluded.
“I’m not going to share my food or room with them! I’ve paid to travel in peace and comfort!”
“You’re not the one deciding what we’re going to do or not!” a man yelled back from somewhere in the crowd. It wouldn’t be a wild guess to say he was a stowaway, just like Paige.
The rich and the poor onboard then started arguing more. Paige watched them with guilt and worried how all of this would end.
Angela was still doing strange movements with her hands, now acting as if she were drawing something. No one else seemed interested in her anymore, and that was a blessing.
With the argument now coming to a boil, one was paying attention to her or her mother, which was great. She wasn’t exactly sure how she, her mother, and the other stowaways could be kicked off the ship since they were in space, but she certainly didn’t want to find out.
Everyone was now focused on themselves. The rich fought to be heard, to make the point that their rights were the only rights that mattered because their credit cards had paid for their way. The stowaways argued that they were living humans and deserved the same rights as those who paid because—rich or poor—they all had one thing in common…
They had all survived.
Paige wholeheartedly agreed with that.
But instead of getting involved more with the argument, she refocused on her mother. She needed to clean one mess at a time. She looked at Angela’s profile. She was frowning, and her face was locked in concentration as she worked on the task she was doing.
An imaginary task.
Suddenly, there was a crackle from a speaker in the corner of the room.
“Attention! I’m Captain Zoya. Please, everyone, please take your places. We're about to enter the hyper-speed.” The voice was barely audible over the sound of all the arguing.
Paige looked around as the rich people disengaged from the rest of them in that very second and began to climb up the narrow white metal stairs at the back of the room.