by Lizzy Bequin
The surface hits me hard, knocking the wind out of me and ripping Clare’s hand out of mine. I’m tumbled in a disorienting churn of roiling water.
I break the surface, and the sound of the waterfall is almost deafening. Frantically, I scan my vision along the surface of the water, looking for any sign of the human female. After a few seconds, my heart seizes with panic.
As I dive beneath the water again, my helm adjusts to the darkness of the deep pool. I descend until I can see the bottom—large river stones as smooth as giant eggs and thick, veined mud pits lying in deeper parts.
Still no sign of the girl.
I return to the surface, fill my lungs with air, and dive once more.
This time I spot her. Her small, light body is trapped in the tumble of bubbles where the waterfall is crashing down. The churning water is rolling her round and round, keeping her pinned below.
I coil one arm around her waist and pull her up.
“Clare!” I gasp as we break into the air. “Clare, are you okay?”
When she doesn’t respond immediately, panic rises in my chest, but after a second she sputters and coughs up some water.
Relief passes over me like a cool breeze.
I support her as we climb onto the riverbank. She plops down on the sand, pale and weak but alive. Dripping with water, I scan the surrounding jungle for any signs of more predators.
We floated quite a long distance from where the spiny orange monster attacked us. On top of that, the high cliff that the waterfall flows over should provide a barrier and keep us separated from the beast. There doesn’t appear to be an easy way up or down, at least not nearby.
I think we’re safe for the time being. Once I’m sure Clare is all right, I’ll set up a security perimeter.
But first I need to check in with the girl. I kneel beside her, placing one hand on her bare shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
She nods and wipes back a few wet tendrils of hair plastered across her face. She looks up at me and musters a weak smile.
“You saved me,” she says. “Thank you.”
Her expression shifts to one of fear, and her body tenses.
“You…You aren’t angry that I shot you with the zapper?”
She can’t see me smirking beneath my helm. That’s probably for the best.
“Right now I think we’ve got bigger things to worry about,” I tell her. “We’re going to have to work together if we’re going to…”
My voice trails off as something catches my eye.
“Rogar? What is it?”
My eyes are hidden from her behind my tinted visor, but the angle of my helm clues her in that I’m looking at her body, which has been mostly washed clean of mud following our little whitewater adventure.
She glances down at her exposed belly and legs, and she chokes out a squeal of disgust when she sees them.
Leeches.
CHAPTER 12: CLARE
“Oh shit, get them off me!”
I leap to my feet, my tired body suddenly re-energized by a tiny pulse of adrenaline. I swat at the little furry leeches, desperately trying to dislodge them from my skin. There are at least a dozen of them, and those are just the ones I can see on my front.
“Be still,” Rogar says in that low gravelly voice. “Calm down.”
“Calm down?” I shout. “That’s easy for you to say! You’re not covered in fucking furry leeches!
I gesture at his bluish scales. It’s true. There’s not a single leech on him.
“What’s up with that, by the way?” I mutter. “How come they’re practically eating me alive, but you don’t have any?”
“You must be sweeter than me,” he says drily.
All I can do is scowl at him.
“That was a joke,” Rogar says. “My intention was to ease your nerves.”
“Well, it didn’t work!” I shout angrily. “You want to ease my nerves? Help me get these fucking things off of me.”
I remember that this guy just saved my life, so I should try to be polite. Then again, he’s also the one who got me into this mess, so I guess it all balances out. All the same, I take a deep breath, and as calmly as possible I add, “Please.”
“It’s your soft skin,” Rogar says, poking at one of the leeches. “Their teeth couldn’t gain purchase on my scales, but your tender human flesh is perfect for them.”
“Great,” I mutter.
I wince as I pinch the wet fur of a leech on my upper arm and try to peel it away without much success.
“Stop it,” Rogar says. “You’ll damage your epidermis if you try to rip them out like that.”
“Well do you have a better idea?”
I shudder and do a little nervous dance on the balls of my feet. I want these disgusting things off me right now.
Rogar calmly unlashes his spear that was slung over his shoulder. He stabs the tip of it into the sand so that the pole is upright in front of him, and he taps a hidden button on the end. A little metal rod pops out, about the size and shape of a sharpened pencil.
“Let’s try this,” Rogar says.
He leans over me, and studies the leech on my arm that I was just tugging at. He aims the pointy tip of the metal rod until it is almost touching the nasty thing, and then he thumbs a button on the end.
A thread of electricity crackles, like when you get zapped by a door knob after walking on a carpet.
“Ow!” I cry as the little shock tingles me.
But it works. The leech’s hairs all stand on end, and after a moment, it slowly peels away and drops lifelessly to the beach by my feet. For good measure, I kick the nasty thing away into the water.
“Hold still.”
My body stiffens and I let out a little squeak as Rogar places one hand on my costume bra and aims the device at another leech that has latched onto the top of my boob.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, drawing his hand back.
My cheeks flush with heat after that unexpected touch.
“No, I’m okay,” I say. As his hand moves toward my chest again, I stop him. “Um, why don’t you show me how to use that thing so I can do it myself?”
***
“Ouch!”
I flinch as I zap another furry leech off the inside of my knee. After it flops between my legs on the giant leaf where I’m sitting, I flick it away.
“Little fucker,” I grumble.
Every time I think I’ve gotten the last of these stupid things, I find another one somewhere.
I’m sitting on a gigantic, leathery elephant-ear leaf that Rogar brought from the jungle so I wouldn’t have to sit in the coarse sand while I do my thing. I’ve checked just about everywhere I’m able to except for under my bra. I decide I’d better go ahead and do that now, while Rogar is busy setting up the security perimeter so we can camp for the night.
The red sun has already kissed the horizon and is starting to bleed away like a piece of melting candy, staining the clouds pink as it goes. Deep shadows are spreading in the jungle surrounding our little lagoon, and the eerie calls of nocturnal animals can be heard over the never-ending rush of the waterfall.
I have to confess, I’m none too excited about the prospect of sleeping in this place.
Still, there hasn’t been any sign of that tiger-porcupine-frog monster again, thank goodness, and Rogar seems pretty confident we’ll be safe here. He says we have everything we need to make our camp.
Apparently, that spear of his is like an intergalactic Swiss army knife. After he gave me this little leech zapper, he removed about twenty small metal orbs from inside the spear’s pole. Rogar showed me how they work. The orbs can hover, and they have tiny ruby eyes that emit a network of invisible lasers. If anything crosses the beams, it will set off an alarm.
Rogar is currently distributing these little hovering orbs in a wide perimeter around our campsite on the small beach. I can hear him now, stomping around at the edge of the dark jungle.
While he’s distrac
ted with that chore, I slip my bra off and check my boobs for any leeches.
Only three of them. Lucky me.
As I set to work zapping the nasty little critters off my skin, my thoughts wander back to what Rogar was starting to say earlier.
He and I have to work together.
It’s a matter of survival.
Somehow I can’t help thinking there’s more to it than that. The way that he saved me from that creature. The way he held me so protectively as we careened through those rough rapids. The frantic desperation in his voice when he thought I had drowned.
And then there was that little spark of joy I experienced when I realized he was alive.
I smile to myself in the settling dusk.
You know, a girl could do a lot worse for company when it comes to getting stranded on a weird alien planet.
“Clare, I brought you something.”
His voice startles me. I clasp my arms over my naked breasts and turn my back to him. His feet scuff to a stop behind me.
“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t frighten me,” I say a little too quickly. “I just…I don’t want you to see me.”
I glance back over my bare shoulder.
With a soft clatter, Rogar drops a big armful of dead wood and kindling on the beach. When he has done that, he extends his other hand, which is holding some kind of rough sack. I realize it is actually a big, floppy leaf, and something is wrapped inside.
Rogar sets the bundle on the sand beside my giant leaf mat and pulls the flaps back, revealing a small pile of fruits that look a bit like plums and some green stalks like thick bamboo cut into short sections.
“You must be hungry,” he says, nodding toward the pile. “It’s not much, but it will help.”
Rogar is right, I’m freaking starving. All of the excitement with the monster and the river and those gross little leeches almost made me forget, but now my mouth is watering.
Keeping one arm over my breasts, I reach for one of the plums, but I stop myself.
“Rogar, how do you know these are safe to eat?”
He taps a finger against the temple of his helmet. The metal of his gauntlet makes a light clicking sound.
“Built in molecular scanner,” he says matter-of-factly. “All of this stuff is non-toxic.”
That’s assuming my physiology is similar to his. But it’s good enough for me. Those plums look too darn delicious to pass up. I snatch one up greedily and sink my teeth into it. Sweet juice dribbles down my chin.
“Oh my God,” I groan between bites. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
It’s not just that I’ve gone so long without eating anything. These fruits are intensely sweet and the slightest bit tart, kind of like a cranberry flavor but less strong. The juice is heavenly in my dry mouth.
Rogar points to the green stalks, which look a lot less appetizing.
“Those contain clean water. You can use them to rehydrate.”
Turning around on my leaf mat, but still keeping my breasts hidden beneath one arm, I take up one of the stalks.
The plant that these were chopped from must be some kind of succulent like agave. The inner part of the stalk oozes with a slightly sticky fluid that tastes a bit like honey. I swallow some of it, and my parched throat feels instantly relieved.
I reach for another cranberry-plum. I’m so hungry and thirsty I almost grab at the pile with two hands, nearly forgetting that I need to keep myself covered.
I blush and pause, catching myself before I fall into a full-blown feeding frenzy.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
Rogar simply nods. He moves over to the little pile of sticks and branches that he collected.
“Don’t you want any?” I offer.
“I’m fine. I’ll get something later.”
“But—“
“Eat,” he cuts me off flatly.
I decide not to argue with him. Rogar crouches and begins assembling a camp fire, setting some aside for later.
As he works, I watch him and eat. After three plums and two stalks, I’m surprisingly full and my muscles are reinvigorated. Whatever these fruits are, they must be rich in nutrients.
Rogar gestures toward the little metal rod that I was using to zap the leeches. I’m clutching it in the same fist that I’m still using to cover my bare breasts.
“I need that for a moment,” he says.
Munching on some fruit, I awkwardly take the small rod in the juice-stained fingers of my other hand and give it to him. He looks at the little device, now sticky with juice, and shrugs. With one zap, he ignites a little wad of dried plant fibers which he uses as tinder, tucking it beneath the arranged kindling.
Soon, bright flames have consumed the kindling and start to lick at the larger pieces of firewood on top.
But there’s something unusual about this fire.
“It’s green,” I gasp breathlessly as the glow warms my face.
Rogar nods.
“There’s lots of boric acid in this wood. Boric acid burns green.”
To him, it’s no big deal, but I can’t help being amazed. Everything on this planet is alien and bizarre, even something as simple as a campfire.
Rogar stretches out his arm, offering the zap pencil back to me.
“Oh, I’m good,” I say, waving my hand. “I don’t need it anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
He unfastens the straps that hold his armored shoulder plates in place and shrugs them away, rolling his bare shoulders once they are off.
I nod, munching on one last bite of cranberry-plum.
“Yup. I zapped all of those stupid leeches.”
Rogar takes off his cape too. His spear is still plunged into the sand by the fire, and he drapes the cape, still damp from the river, over the butt of the weapon to dry. He turns toward me, green flames reflecting off his tinted visor and armored shoulders.
“How did you check your backside?” he asks.
I nearly choke as I swallow the last bite of fruit.
Okay, I guess he’s got me there. Maybe I didn’t check every last inch of my body, but I did check everything I could see, including under my bra and beneath my loincloth and the panties underneath—at least in the front.
“If there were leeches on my back, wouldn’t I, you know…feel them?”
“Not necessarily,” he says. “Many parasites secrete a form of local anodyne to hide their presence.” He pauses and twirling one finger, he adds, “Turn around so your back is to the fire.”
“But…”
Rogar strips off his armored vambraces and gauntlets and lays them aside. He flexes his now bare fists.
“Turn around.”
His tone says he means business, so I decide I’d better do as he says. I turn around and stare at the waterfall in the fading dusk light. The green flames of the fire draw our long, wavering shadows over the beach.
Rogar’s shadow shifts as he gets into position behind me. He grips my long braid, which is a total disaster at this point, and hangs it carefully in front of my shoulder.
A sexy shiver tingles up my spine.
“Just as I thought,” he murmurs.
I wonder if he’s talking about the leeches or something else. I turn my head so that I can just see the shape of him out of the corner of my eye.
His fingers, smooth and cool, gently touch the nape of my neck, and my body stiffens. My skin prickles with goosebumps at his caress. The fine hairs at the back of my neck stand erect.
“Hold still.”
Despite Rogar’s command, I can’t help jumping a little at the light shock between my shoulder blades. Something small tumbles down my back. Another dead leech.
“Shit. Are there a lot of them back there?” I ask.
Rogar grunts.
“Not too many, but I don’t think you’d want to go to sleep with these things on you.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” I say with a
nervous giggle.
God, why am I acting like a giddy little girl.
I nibble at my lip as he smooths his broad palm down my bare back. The pad of his thumb strokes the channel of my spine. His breathing sounds a bit labored inside his helmet.
“Your skin is so soft,” Rogar’s voice is a bit dreamy, as if in a daze. He grunts once more, and when he speaks again, his voice has regained its usual stiff tone. “I wonder how your fragile species ever managed to survive so long.”
A small fire of irritation kindles in my chest, and I want to tell him off for that last comment, but I decide I had better keep my mouth shut.
To be honest, I’m too worried that if I tried to speak now, my stupid voice would crack. The way his hand is moving over my bare back is causing all kinds of sounds to well up in my throat, and I’m struggling to hold them inside.
His thumb traces circles around the dimples beside my tailbone. My nipples stiffen against my arm where I’m covering them. A warm, ticklish sensation pulses at my core.
Zap!
“Ow!” I cry, my body jumping out of reflex at the shock.
Rogar places his hand on the curve of my hip to hold me steady. That touch sends even more unwanted tingles racing through my veins.
“Okay,” Rogar says, “That’s the last of them on your back.”
“Good.”
I start to turn around, but a firm hand on the back of my neck stops me.
“I’m not finished.” His voice is low and gravelly.
“What do you mean?” I stammer.
“I need to check beneath your loincloth.”
My shout of surprise and defiance echoes over the surface of the pool where the waterfall is spilling and splashing in the deepening dark. I try to turn again, but that strong hand on my neck holds me firmly in place.
“Wait,” I whimper. “I already checked there.”
“You checked the front, perhaps,” Rogar says. “But not the back. We need to check thoroughly. Now lie down on your stomach.”
When I don’t do as he says immediately, his grip tightens on the back of my neck, and he firmly guides me forward. I can see that he’s not leaving me any choice in the matter.
I give in and lie down prone on the big leaf, my cheek pressed to the grainy sand that is still warm from a long day of sunshine.
