by CJ Birch
“Thank you, by the way.”
It’s hard, but I drag my eyes away from the fire. “For what?”
“I never said it before, but I want to say thanks for choosing me. I would never have gotten to experience this.” She waves her hand in the direction of the jungle and the back of the cave. “I’ve experienced so many firsts on this adventure. Things I never thought I’d ever see, and it’s because of you.”
“But—”
She waves off my protest. “Even if we don’t find the ship, and even if we die on this planet, I’m still thankful. Especially since I got to experience it all with you.” She hesitates, but only for a second, gauging my reaction. She leans in, her eyes on my mouth, and seals her heartfelt declaration with a kiss. It’s slow at first, like she’s discovering my lips for the first time, but soon becomes something more urgent.
She tugs my shirt off, but before I can reach for hers, she pushes me to the ground.
“My turn.” She begins to kiss down my neck, along my collarbone. She runs her fingers across my chest, skimming the tops of my breasts. The sensation travels down, spreading along my skin, sparking a fire all the way to my toes. “I love your skin.” She bends to kiss the top of each breast.
I reach up and entwine my fingers in her hair. It’s so silky. She kisses between my breasts, running her thumb along the sensitive skin underneath. My back arches at the contact. I’ve never been so in the moment as I am right now. Every kiss, caress, every spot Ash touches, I feel deeply. She places her hand flat on my stomach as she takes my nipple into her mouth. My hips buck at the sensation. She eases her hand downward, running it along the inside of my waistband. I don’t think I can take much more teasing as she peppers my stomach with soft kisses.
She inches my shorts down, skimming her fingers along the outside of my thighs as she does. Every part of my body shivers as she stares into my eyes. Her eyes are dark and full of lustful intentions. By the time she leans down and glides her tongue along my folds, I’m already a goner. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s as if my skin is contracting and expanding at the same time, undulating along my body. I am cool and hot all at once. At any moment, I’m going to explode.
Ash takes her time exploring, teasing and it’s almost my undoing. My moans echo through the cave and into the night. Finally, she presses her tongue hard into my clit. My vision contracts and I can’t tell if my eyes are open or shut.
“Oh, God, Ash,” I say, when I’m finally able to speak. “There are no words.”
Ash crawls up my body and sinks into me. “I know what you mean.” As we fall asleep, entangled next to the fire, she whispers, “I love you.”
I turn to tell her the same, but she’s already drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-seven
On the fifth day, we find the cliff. We admire the view and would’ve moved on, except Ash spots something that doesn’t belong in a jungle. At the bottom. The very deep, hard to reach bottom. This will take some definite thinking.
We’ve spent most of the last five days in the cave. Or at the pond. It’s been hard pulling ourselves away from each other. But we can’t live in that cave forever.
The cliff runs a few kilometers along what was probably once the coast. Far off on the horizon, the ocean glistens. It juxtaposes the sea of green, which stretches out below us as we stand at the edge.
“How far down do you think?” Ash peers over the edge. She kicks a rock and we listen as it disappears into the tops of the trees below.
“Far. Every tree we’ve seen so far is gigantic. If these are the tops, then the bottom must be a kilometer below.”
Behind us stretches flat rock, half a kilometer to the tree line, which leaves us exposed. It took a lot of convincing to even get me to come out to the edge. One gun between us is useless if we’re outnumbered. We haven’t seen any avians out this way, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t around. I’m still not used to fauna. It makes me feel as though we’re constantly being watched.
“We should jump,” Ash says.
The comment comes out of nowhere. I stare. Is she joking? “Be serious.”
“I’m one hundred percent serious.”
“We’d die.”
“No way. The canopy would break our fall. Those leaves are bigger than we are. They’d catch us.”
“I’m not jumping, so forget it.”
I gaze out at the expanse. A bird soars high off in the distance, circling something below. It spreads its wings, gliding in a hypnotic circle. I’m mesmerized, until the wings collapse upward, and it spins feet first into the foliage. There’s a loud squawk and the sound of greenery ripping. That makes my mind up. I will not be jumping.
There must be another way down. The cliff veers in a semicircle, meandering into the trees off to the right, the same to the left. Our best bet is to follow the edge and hope for a more gradual descent. The sun is at its zenith, which tells me we have about five hours of sunlight left. Not enough time to explore much more. I’m wondering if it’s even worth it. All we can see is a flash of something whenever the wind moves the leaves. It could be anything. Then again, it could be something.
“Let’s make camp. Tomorrow we can try to find a better way down.”
Ash is on her stomach, peering over the edge. “What if we climbed down the rock face into the trees?”
“Without proper repelling equipment? Not on your life.”
“There are footholds here. It’s doable.”
I shake my head and begin walking toward the trees. There aren’t any caves around here that I’ve seen so we’ll have to take shifts keeping watch. We’ve been collecting food as we go, so there’s plenty to eat today. I still haven’t gotten the courage to try for one of the small creatures yet. We need something more substantial than the berries and legumes we’ve been finding along our way. But I have a feeling looming starvation will help that endeavor along.
I hear the danger long before I see it. The noise, a series of birdcalls, sharp and loud, comes from our left. Ash stops and crouches low to the ground. I join her, but my gut tells me we’ve been tracked for some time. The trees are still too far, and we’re out in the open. It’s why I didn’t want to come this way.
“There.” Ash points to the trees closest to us. A group of four avians, all with large spears, are coming toward us. They tuck their wings in tight, crouch low, and hold their spears at the ready.
I look to the right. The trees appear even further than before. We’ll never make it. I’m guessing they’re pretty accurate with those spears. I’ve seen them take down much larger animals than us.
Behind us, the semicircle of cliff edge looms. I hand Ash the gun and pick up the only thing I can find that might be of any use, a large rock. I heft it in my palm, ready to throw it.
“There isn’t much charge left.” The whine of the gun powering up accompanies that statement. “There’s enough to take down two, maybe three.”
I grip my rock tighter. “It’ll even the odds a little.”
The group is only fifteen meters away now, coming up fast. The leader cocks his head to the sky and crows. They all stop about ten meters back.
The sharp edges of the rock dig into my palm from gripping it too tight.
Several loud caws rip through the air. But the sound doesn’t come from the group in front. I look around. Five more avians are approaching from the right.
Ash grasps my hand and crushes it tight. I look over at her and think: this is it. But instead of the fear or resignation I’m expecting, there’s a gleam in her eyes.
“Do you trust me?” she asks.
Do I? She’s reckless, yes, but her actions put her in harm’s way, not others. So I nod.
“Good.” She squeezes my hand again before letting go.
Before I can even reassess our situation, Ash takes off, sprinting toward the cliff.
“Ash! You crazy ass,” I call after her. I turn in time to see her sail off the edge.
<
br /> “For fuck’s sake! Ash!” I look down at the rock in my hand and contemplate my options. There are very few. Best case scenario, the avians capture me. More likely they’ll kill me and roast me for dinner. I look behind me and my heart constricts because I know I’m going to do it.
I chuck the rock to the side and sprint for the cliff. The edge comes up much faster than I’m expecting. Behind me, I can hear the thumping of their feet as they begin pursuit. Several loud caws follow. I don’t waste time looking back. Looking back is a death wish.
And then I’m at the edge and there’s no choice. No more time to change my mind or second guess myself.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The last thing I think before my feet leave the safety of solid ground is, if I survive this, I’m going to kill Ash. It’s possibly the last thing I’ll ever think.
And then I’m airborne.
My stomach launches slower than me, lodging somewhere in my throat as I drop. The screaming I hear may be me, but I’m not sure. All my thoughts are on the mass of green coming closer.
When I hit the top level of foliage everything goes dark as I’m enveloped by layers of leaves. They tear at my arms and legs, slicing into the tender skin of my neck and face. And then there’s the noise. Falling through canopy is loud. I’m surrounded by a thunderous roar as I reach out, hoping for some sort of purchase. Tiny vines begin to curl around me, slowing my descent. Eventually, I’m able to grab a bunch of them and stop my fall.
I take a deep breath. Holy shit. I’m surrounded by green. Above me, I can make out the hole I made as I crashed through the canopy. There’s the faintest circle of blue sky. The ground below is nothing but hope.
“Jordan.” Ash is a few meters above me, sliding down one of the vines toward me.
When she reaches me, she brushes a lock of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. Despite the myriad emotions swirling around my head, it sends a shiver through my body.
“You jumped.” She couldn’t be happier about that. “I knew you’d jump.”
“This is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”
Ash’s grin takes over her whole face. “It’s only dumb if it didn’t work.”
“If it hadn’t worked we’d be dead.”
Ash waves me off. “Semantics.” She’s actually having fun. Damn her.
“So how do we get down?”
She scoffs. “I’m the ideas girl. You’re the problem solver.”
After a few minutes of trial and error, we figure out that the tiny vines are strong enough to hold our weight. It’s slow going, but we manage to drop a few meters at a time by sliding down the vines.
“I wish I could’ve seen their faces when we jumped.” Ash tugs a vine snaking around a branch before grabbing on to it.
I don’t say anything. I’m still kind of mad we’re in this situation. It’s true that we’re stuck on this planet because of me. It was my father who stranded us here. But this? This situation is definitely on her.
“Why are you moping? It could be worse. They could’ve followed us,” she says.
And almost as if on cue, we hear a loud crash above, followed by several whooping sounds.
We’re still half a kilometer above the forest floor. There’s no way we can reach it before they catch up to us.
“They can glide, right?”
I don’t say anything, just nod and slide down faster. My ability to think ceases, I’m in panic mode now. Grab and slide, grab and slide. The vines are rough and unforgiving and my palms start to burn.
The ripping and whooping above us gets louder. And closer. I risk looking up, I shouldn’t, but I do. Three avians glide toward us using the vines and tree branches spiraling out from the trunk. Their descent is graceful, like a dance. Unlike ours, which resembles a toddler trying to walk for the first time.
My hands ache. They’ve started to bleed and still we’re not going fast enough. The rush of leaves above is deafening. And then all momentum stops. Something grabs me from behind and I’m pulled up. I call out to Ash, but she’s too far below. I turn, expecting to see the long beak of one of the avians. The pack I’m wearing has caught on one of the branches.
I only debate for a second before shrugging out of it. There’s little time to regret the loss of all our food, water, and tools. As soon as I’m free, I fall several meters before catching myself on a branch. It knocks the wind out of me and I lose precious seconds recovering.
“Behind you,” Ash calls from below.
I don’t turn in time, but it doesn’t matter. The excruciating pain on my right shoulder tells me what’s happened. One of the avians has caught up and grabbed me. A sharp claw digs into my clavicle. The claw is almost pure black, like the pyramids, only not as shiny. A stream of blood spills down the front of my shirt the second he pulls it out. For a moment, I do nothing, just stare at the gaping wound in my shoulder.
The avian straddles me on the branch, a foot on each side of my body. His clawed toes wrap around the branch, sinking into the soft wood. He picks me up like I weigh nothing, and hoists me over his shoulder. The blood from my injury smears down his back, the contrast of dark red against pale gray is stark.
He shouts something at the rest of his group. I don’t need to speak their language to understand. They have me.
“Hold on.” Ash’s voice sounds much closer than it should be.
“Ash, get out of here.”
She doesn’t listen. Of course.
The avian’s wings flap against his back a few times before opening full width. Up close, the feathers are dirty, covered in mud and dead insects. And they stink like rotten earth, as if he’s dragged them through a compost heap.
“Don’t move.” Ash’s voice is now only a few feet away, and I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or the avian.
I twist in time to see her draw the gun and fire at his leg. He shrieks and falls backward, squeezing me to his chest as he reaches for the branch above.
“I said don’t move.” Ash fires again, this time, at his head. The blast decimates his face, and still he doesn’t drop me. I have a sickening view of the labyrinth of branches and vines below us. As he falls backward, that view changes to the two avians above.
I scramble to free myself from his grasp before he drags me down with his dead weight. It’s no use. My equilibrium is off and I can’t figure out which way is up and which is down. Before gravity takes me, Ash latches on to my wrist. Gravity and momentum almost rip my arm from its socket, but I’m no longer falling.
The earlier excitement is gone from Ash’s face. Her eyes are still bright either from the excitement or the strain of holding on to me.
“Can you climb down on your own?” she asks.
My shoulder kills, but if I don’t try, I don’t even want to imagine the alternative. “I think so.”
We stick close to the trunk where the branches are thicker, but it leaves us with less of the vines to grab onto. Ash needs to help me on almost every branch. Every time I lift my arm, the bleeding gets worse.
We hit the ground, almost in unison, just missing the maze of giant roots heaped around the bottom of the tree. I don’t even have time to dwell on my injuries because Ash grabs my arm and pulls me up.
“Come on. We need to move.”
Judging by the angry shrieks behind us, I agree.
As we sprint away along the jungle floor, I take stock of our situation. We’re now without weapons, food, water or even water containers of any kind. All our rations, medical kit, and fire starting equipment dangles a kilometer up in a tree. There are at least two avians chasing us through dense underbrush. And if they don’t kill us, a million other things will.
I burst through a rather grabby bramble and find Ash sitting on the ground. She snatches my arm, holding me back.
“Don’t. There’s something there. A barrier of some kind.”
There’s nothing in front of us except a clearing with dijon-colored grass and some stunted trees. I search th
e ground for something to throw and find a jagged rock. It’s heavy and solid.
We’ve been on this planet for a week. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it houses a lot of secrets. Nothing should surprise me anymore. And yet I’m floored when the rock bounces back and rolls to a stop at my boot tip. There’s some sort of shield guarding this section of the jungle. A moment later, two avians barge through the same bramble and stop a few meters from us.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Ash hauls herself to her feet, ready to square off against the two avians standing a few meters away. They’re weaponless, which doesn’t necessarily mean we can take them. They’re stronger and faster than us. And even though it’s only been a few days, they look taller than I remember. And much angrier.
“Seeing as how you’re the ideas gal, what do you suggest?” I ask. We’re in limbo, stuck between two menacing bird men with carnage in their stance and a shield we can’t see.
Ash lifts the gun and fires our last shot at the avian on the right. He stumbles forward and sinks onto one knee, clutching his chest. The blast is deafening in the relative quiet of the jungle. It sets off an explosion of birds in the nearby trees. Without saying anything, she takes my hand and runs. This is more suicidal than being target practice for the avians.
“We’ll get our asses fried on that shield.”
Ash points at the ground. “No, we won’t. Look at the grass.”
And that’s when I see a distinct divide. The grass inside the shield is yellow while the grass on our side is lush and green. The line meanders in a gentle curve around the clearing until we reach a thick copse and a rushing river. The river curves back around in the direction we’ve come. That’s where our escape route ends. It’s several meters wide, and thick and angry with debris from last night’s storm.
Ash drops a rock into the rushing water. We lose sight as soon as it hits the water with a quick splash.
“Looks pretty deep,” she says.
I take a step back. When she turns, I can see the question on her lips, but I shake my head. A calm pond is one thing. There is no way I’d risk getting swept away in that. With our luck, we’d get brained by a passing log and drown before we made it around the next bend.
