by Ella Maven
My cage was set down, and I was freed, but escape was impossible. I was surrounded by crocs. They didn’t bother tying me up, which was both welcome and insulting that I wasn’t much of a threat to the pack. On the other hand, Ward wore manacles with the rest of his body wrapped in a mishmash of chains. At least a dozen crocs held spears on him at all times. All he needed was a Hannibal Lector mask to look like a legitimate captured serial killer.
He watched me carefully as we were led into the cavern where—oh lovely—more fucking crocs greeted us. When they saw the bounty—me and Ward—a cacophony of grunts, hisses and clicks bounced off the walls of the cavern in a deafening din.
I had to step around holes in the floor, which I was curious about until an odd wave lapped up the edge cavern. Instead of running into the deep recesses of the cave. the water slipped into the holes and filtered back out to sea. They were apparently smart enough to establish an anti-flooding system. I would say I was impressed, but they hadn’t mastered hygiene yet, so I wasn’t giving them any points.
I was led over to a side of the cave. Grimy clawed hands shoved at my shoulders until I was forced to the sit on the ground. Something poked me in the butt, and I reached under me only to pull out a bone. A bone. I gagged and tossed it as far as I could, satisfied when I heard a plop when it landed in the water below. I didn’t want to know what animal—or person—that bone was from.
Oh God, that was going to be me, wasn’t it? My bones would be here for the next victim. I huddled into a ball as my heart beat a panicked rhythm like it was trying to warn me what was coming next. I knew what was next. That was the problem, and I could do nothing but watch as they gleefully roamed about the cave. Where was Ward?
Just then, I spotted a break in the crocs as the leader tugged the large blue alien in my direction. Relief washed over me. He was alive. Upright. The black eyes ignored everything around us to focus on me. The leader yanked on his manacles until Ward was forced to his knees beside me.
Then the leader, with an eerie cackle, took his massive spear and shoved the tip into Ward’s ribs. I screamed as the weapon sank into his flesh. The entire time, his expression didn’t change. The only indication he was in pain was a slight clenching of his jaw. Otherwise, he made no sound or reaction.
“Stop!” I screeched at the creepy leader as he withdrew the weapon, leaving behind a gash which began to leak black blood. “What the hell was that for, you fucking psycho?”
The leader did that cackling laugh thing and hobbled away on his stupid stubby legs. Ward’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he inhaled sharply as a wince finally twisted his lips. I reached for him immediately. He’d comforted me when I was cold. The least I could do was see to his injury.
Off-balance, he fell against me with a soft grunt. I wasn’t a nurse, but I did my best to shift his body to get a look at his stab wound. It continued to leak, although I could see the blood was clotting already. I wished I had something to clean it with. I tore a scrap of fabric from my shirt and the next time a wave hit the cavern, I managed to wet it before it disappeared down the flood holes. Crawling back to Ward where he sat hunched against the wall, eyes fixed on me, I pressed the fabric to his wound to rub away the dirt from the spear.
Surprisingly the wound didn’t look as bad as I’d expected it to. That likely would have killed a human, but maybe these blue aliens had better healing abilities. Still, Ward was in pain; I could tell by the tightness in his neck and the way he held his body.
Unsure what else to do, I held him against me, careful to avoid his sharp horns. At first, he remained stiff, but then he relaxed into me. We sat like that, in a weird, silent embrace as the crocs bustled around us, almost ignoring us.
They were bringing forth large hunks of wood from some sort of storage area further in the cave. Once they had it piled in the center, I realized they were making a fire. Seeing as they ate raw meat, I wasn’t sure what the fire was for. Unless human was better cooked. Stop it, Reba.
This situation was past critical and had descended straight into Oh my God, we’re going to die. They were going to eat me. And probably Ward too, although I couldn’t imagine his meat was any good. Mine would be great, like a little lamb’s, because my workout schedule had fallen off the last few months. Why was I thinking about how tasty I was?
Next to me, Ward fidgeted. His hands were clasped together, but in the dim light of the cave, with the last of the sunlight barely peeking around the rocky edge, I couldn’t figure out what he was doing. Suddenly, a soft clink reached my ears. I patted my hand on the ground, feeling for the source of the sound, when I realized Ward no longer wore his manacles. The chains pooled in loose coils beneath him. I jerked my head up, wondering what the hell was going on.
When he met my eyes, the pain no longer lingered in his black irises. His back was straight, fists clenched on his thighs. He raised one finger, placed it lengthwise across his lips, and held my gaze.
I nodded, unsure what I was agreeing to, but willing to put my trust in Ward. Something told me he was the only thing standing between me and the leader eating my leg like a drumstick.
Five
Ward
This was the time. Rizars didn’t have the best night vision, and if I was right about the angle of the cliff face, I’d be shielded from their thrown spears. Their king thought he injured me fatally, but I was a Drixonian, not a Rizar. I’d played the part of wounded warrior, but his spear thrust had been merely a scratch. I also might have enjoyed letting the female comfort me a little too much.
Her eyes were huge in her pale face, and she trembled next to me in her thin clothing. I couldn’t wait until I could get her proper attire and some warm salibri furs. She should be living in luxury—or as close to it as we could get post-Uprising—not sitting on this cold dirty floor in a disgusting Rizar cave as they scuttled about eager for their meal.
They planned to eat me too, and while they’d been known to overpower lone Drixonians, those were usually younger inexperienced warriors. They had no idea the kind of warrior I was and how far I’d go to protect Reba. The manacles had been easy to break, and I wondered several times if I should have tried to escape sooner.
I wasn’t sure if Reba knew I planned to get us out of here, but she kept quiet and watched me. I studied the Rizars, who were all but ignoring us now. The king was issuing orders as the smaller females and young remained huddled in the far recesses of the cage, only occasionally peeking out to gawk at Reba and me.
This was my chance. A little bit of sunlight remained, which I’d need, but by the time we were out of reach of the spears, it’d be fully dark. I’d have the speed and advantage. I hated I had to take this risk to save Reba, but there was no other option. I hoped she didn’t fight me; I’d have given anything to be able to explain to her what I planned to do. Instead, I had to hope I’d done enough to earn her trust.
I waited until a fight broke out between two Rizars over a female who’d walked by. A crowd gathered around them and the king had to wade in and break it up. While his back was turned, I made my move. As I scooped Reba into my arms, her only sound was a soft squeak when I pressed her to my chest. Running at a crouch, I sped toward the mouth of the cave. Reba’s hands dug into my shoulders, and her hair whipped at my face. A shout went from inside the cave just as I reached the edge and leaped.
Reba muffled a scream in my chest. I groped for the vine I’d seen earlier dangling at the side of the cave opening, the same plant the Rizars used to tie up Reba as the stalk was thick, fibrous, and nearly indestructible. It extended from a dense mass at the top of the cliff, which was the only reason I had any hope it would support our weight without snapping. Just as my fingers closed around the vine and we swung out and to the left, a spear whistled past my arm.
I held onto the vine with one hand, and Reba with the other. We soared away from the mouth of the cave. I glanced behind me to see dozens of Rizars rush to the edge, spears in hand. The vine swung us left, and Reba began c
hanting panicked words with her eyes closed. The cliff face rushed to meet us and with a twist of my spine was able to bear the brunt of the impact when we slammed into the rock wall. Reba screamed and slipped down my body before clamping her legs around my hips. Before we could swing out again, I hooked my ankle around a branch jutting out of the wall.
Spears sailed past us as the angle was all wrong for a direct hit. A sharp outcrop blocked most of the spears and the rest flew behind us. Once Reba was more firmly settled against me, her arms and legs locked around my body, I let go of the vine and began to climb the rock. Fast. With my claws extending, I was able to dig into crevices and keep us from falling. Shouts echoed from the camp, followed by the thunder of feet, and I knew the Rizars had now realized what I was doing. They were probably pouring out of the cave to try to beat us to the top of the cliff.
I smiled to myself. They wouldn’t come close to beating me. Hand over hand, foot over foot, I scaled the cliff until my claws closed around the rim, digging into the dirt there. I didn’t have time to relish in the victory of the soft soil in my hand. We had to move.
Even now, I could hear the Rizars rushing toward us, but this was my element now. I knew this area well. We’d fought the Uldani here. It’d been our battleground, and we’d studied the terrain so we could ensure our freedom.
I swung Reba around to my back, locking her arms around my neck, and disappeared into the dense forest. As I ran in the dark, I could occasionally hear a grunt or hiss from a Rizar but as time went on and I placed more distance between us and the coast, the only noises were that of the game in the area. A welf howl here or there and the rustling of antella eating berries. The scurry of a rodent.
Reba’s arms began to slip, and while I could carry her for longer, I also knew she was tired. Cold. Hungry. I had to find some shelter for her and a way to fill her belly. There were a few supply sheds in the area left over from the Uprising. Many of them weren’t kept stocked, but if she was somewhere safe and hidden, I’d be able to hunt for us. The dirt caked under her fingernails was a sign she needed to be clean too. I could provide all of that for her. Just keep your hands to yourself, Ward.
We still had a few more yoras before dawn when we reached our destination. Past a dense thicket of nearly head-high numa, we reached the door of a small hut. Reba gasped when I cracked the lock on the solid door and pushed up the wooden panel barring the entrance.
Inside, the hut was largely overgrown. Vines of numa stretched through the open windows and tangled around chair legs. The sleeping pallet in the corner was covered with a layer of dirt.
After settling Reba in a chair, I flipped the pallet over. The underside wasn’t much cleaner, but at least the dust wouldn’t choke her in her sleep. A closed-lid chest near the pallet held a few clean sleeping furs inside. I laid one down on top of the pallet, and then motioned for Reba to come over.
She rose from the chair slowly and took careful steps, her green gaze shifting between the pallet and me. Her small, bare feet were silent on the boarded floor. Her shirt was torn where she’d attempted to tend to my wound, and her hair hung around her head in wild clumps. As she drew closer, I spotted a twig with a few leaves stuck in the strands near her temple. I reached out to remove it, and she flinched. I froze and waited, my hand still in the air, as her chest heaved. Did she not trust me yet after I risked so much to rescue her?
But then I looked closer, and I saw her face was pale while the skin around her eyes was dark. Her lips were white, and she had small cuts all over her body from the brush we ran through. She was exhausted. Not giving her time to protest, I plucked the leaves from her hair, picked her up, and deposited her on the pallet. She put up no fight but watched me warily until I laid another fur over top her.
I retrieved a bottle of qua from the corner. It smelled a little stale, but it was better than nothing. A stream ran fairly close to the hut and we’d visit it in the morning to clean up and get more to drink.
I held the jug to her lips, and she drank with a slight grimace. After drinking some myself, I retreated to a large chair in the corner with an unobstructed view out the largest window. I needed to sleep too, but I preferred to do it where I could hear the slightest disturbance.
When I glanced back at the pallet, Reba’s eyes glowed in the moonlight as she watched me. Her hands were tucked under her head and the furs pulled up past chin.
“Sleep, Reba,” I called to her, doing my best to soften my voice.
She didn’t answer me but kept watching until her eyes grew heavy and finally closed. Her breaths evened out a moment later. I leaned back in the chair, got comfortable, and slept.
Six
Reba
I was warm and encased in softness, like I was laying on a bed of purring cats. I didn’t want to move or open my eyes, but the growling of my stomach pushed me toward consciousness faster than I would have liked.
Yawning, I opened my eyes and blinked into sunlight. Warm golden rays bathed my face. My stomach rumbled again, and I groaned, lifting myself up onto my elbows. The fur pelt covering me fell away, revealing my dirty, torn nightshirt. And I was back to remembering where I was, which was not Earth, and who I was with, which was not a human.
Speaking of Ward… he wasn’t in the hut. For a moment, I kind of enjoyed the silence until the reality hit me I was alone on a strange planet with gross creatures like the crocs and who knew what else eager to eat me. I threw off the dense fur covering me and leapt off the pallet. My feet slapped on the dirty floor as I raced to the door and threw it open.
I could see nothing but vines—a massive network of them which seemed to never end with no path. How the hell had we gotten here? It’d been dark when we arrived, and my vision had been blocked by Ward’s massive shoulders. Speaking of Ward—where did he go?
The change in my attitude was not lost on me. Two days ago, I’d wanted nothing to do with him. I’d ran away from him. And now I sought him out as the key to my survival. I had to make a choice—I could either plot an escape or I could cautiously trust the big blue guy. I had to review—he hadn’t hurt me. Not one bit.
Last night he hadn’t eaten me like I’d originally feared he would. Or beat me as punishment for running away. I remembered it all now with a furious blush. He’d given me water and the bed. He’d taken care of me. And that was after the death-defying stunt when we ran headfirst out of the cave and swung on a freaking vine like some Jason Statham movie.
I didn’t know whether to call his name or keep my mouth shut. This hut seemed hidden on purpose, and the last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself. I lifted my foot to take another step outside when a voice boomed from my right.
“Reba!” the sharp shout had me whipping my head to see Ward striding toward me, a bundle of wood under one arm and some sort of dead animal clutched in his claws. Oh, and he looked pissed. What else was new? “Yohoa neh posa derisno gurom,” he growled.
Of course, I had no idea what he said but I was going to guess it was something along the lines of, Why didn’t you stay put?
“I’m sorry,” I said with a huff. “I woke up and you weren’t there. I have no weapons to defend myself if those nasty reptile things come back. Hell, I don’t even have shoes!” I braced may fists on my hips. “I thought you deserted me.”
He stopped in front of me, and the scent of the blood from the dead furry thing made my gorge rise in my throat. I placed my hand over my mouth. He frowned deeper and jerked his chin inside. I turned around and trudged back in the house.
He followed, shutting the door behind me, and dropped the dead animal on the ground. He carried the wood to a small stone alcove in the corner I hadn’t noticed the night before. The soot marks led me to assume it was a fireplace.
I stepped toward him as he piled the wood in the alcove. He flicked his dark eyes toward me, and then the dead animal. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was asking me to bring it to him. My stomach rebelled, and a bead of cold, sick sweat dripped down the back
of my neck. I hadn’t touched raw meat in years, and even the smell grossed me out. I used to live near a Texas Roadhouse and just the smell of the grilled steak wafting from the building around the dinner rush was enough to turn me off food for hours.
Oblivious to my turmoil, Ward used a tool in his pocket to ignite a spark on the wood. It ignited quickly, the smoke funneling through a small hole in the hut. Would anyone see that and come find us? I guessed I had to trust Ward on that one.
I eyed the furry body and tried not to think about what it looked like alive. Right now, it was just sort of a jumble of fur and blood. Thank God I couldn’t see adorable ears or little cute toe beans. I didn’t have a problem with Ward needing to hunt to feed himself; I wasn’t about to place my own morals on his culture and lifestyle. But that didn’t mean I wanted to chomp on Peter Rabbit along with him.
I couldn’t communicate with Ward to tell him my objection, and the last thing I wanted to do was be another disappointment after that whole running away thing. I had to pull my weight around here. Careful not to look at the body—or breathe—I picked up the dead animal with two fingers by what I assumed was a hind leg and dropped it at Ward’s feet. Seemingly satisfied with my ability to follow simple commands by retrieving an item for him, he nodded and began to skin the creature with his claws.
I didn’t want to watch, but I was a little fascinated at how quickly and skillfully he worked. The animal was about the size of a small dog, but it had no ears, stubby legs, and a bushy tail. Its snout was long, like a fox’s, but its eyes were round and recessed like a monkey’s. It looked like a children’s drawing had come to life.
As he cooked it, the smell was a bit like chicken, which was the least offensive meat smell to me. Still, I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat it. I wanted to, I really did, but I had an embarrassing gag reflex and already my throat was closing at the mere thought of getting close to that meat.
