Her Alien Warrior

by Mira Maxwell

  “Never mind.” They might have excellent language translators, but my teasing is lost on him. “I’m just sleepy drunk right now.”

  “I don’t know what this sleepy drunk means either. Are you feeling alright?” He looks concerned and confused at the same time.

  “I’m okay. I just really need some sleep.”

  “Lie down and close your eyes. I’m going to help the others get camp set up and then I’ll be back to watch over you.”

  I’m already snuggling into the furs as he speaks. I give him a thumbs-up before I tuck the other fur up under my chin and close my eyes. There is plenty that should keep me up tonight but there’s nothing short of another ragadh attack that could keep my eyes open right now.

  It’s dark when I wake up for the first time. There’s a sound echoing off of the mountains and I know it’s what woke me. Some sort of a howl. My first thought is that it must be a wolf until I remember that I’m not on Earth and there aren’t wolves here. It must be a different creature, and from the luck I’m having on this trip, it IS mostly likely capable of killing me. I look out of the cave into the night, trying to get my eyes to adjust quickly. There’s no fire but somehow I’m not cold. In fact, there’s heavy snow falling outside the cave but I’m warm and toasty inside.

  I try to sit up and that’s when I realize that there’s an arm wrapped around me. I can’t help the little gasp that escapes my lips. I’m just surprised when I see Ozmyx lying so close to me. My movement wakes him and he also sits up.

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, looking around for signs of danger.

  I quickly pull myself together and try to get over my surprise. “Nothing,” I say quickly. “I thought I heard something. Some sort of an animal. It sounded like a howl or something.”

  “That’s possible,” he says, rearranging himself and settling back in for sleep. He puts his arm over his head, eyes closed. “It’s nothing that would venture close to us. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay. There’s no fire anymore, though.” Now that I’ve slept, all the humor that I found earlier about our situation has vanished. I must have been slap happy because worry has taken over. Not to mention every muscle in my body is sore and achy now. Most likely from the strong grip the ragadh had me in, but also from sleeping on the hard cave floor.

  “Are you cold? I figured my body heat would continue to keep you warm after the fire went out.”

  He thinks I’m concerned about the fire going out because I’ll be cold, but really I’m worried about what’s going to venture into our camp now that we don’t have a deterrent.

  “No, I’m not cold. I’m just not up for any more animal attacks.” I snuggle back down under the furs and try to get comfortable. It usually takes a lot to break through my tough exterior. I’ve seen some pretty horrible things in the time I’ve spent working in the ER. I’ve always been able to tune out the horribleness of a situation and focus on what I can do to help. Usually it’s my skill with the human body that comes in handy. Being on this mission and on this planet is turning out to be very different than I thought it would be. I’m pretty useless when it comes to healing the Attalans, and so far my crew mates haven’t needed me too much. As I lie here in the dark, on the hard floor of this tiny cave, I start to think I might have been better off staying home. It might be the homesickness kicking in again but suddenly my eyes start to well with tears. I’m trying to be quiet as I find myself softly weeping in the middle of the night in a tiny cave on the side of a mountain on a planet far from Earth.

  I wonder if the other warriors are all outside in the snow or if they’re spread out keeping watch. I wonder if Ozmyx is wondering what’s wrong with me or if he’s sound asleep. I wish more than ever that at least one of the women I came to this ice planet with were with me now.

  I’m wallowing in my own self-pity when I feel Ozmyx’s arm softly tuck around my body. I let myself relax into him. He’s so strong and so massive that his presence is all around me. This is the first time since I’ve met Ozmyx that I feel like he’s doing just what I need him to do. He has found a way to comfort me and I’m more than just a little surprised. I never would have thought he had it in him. The way he has acted towards me made me think he was completely inept when it came to matters of a female sort. But here, in the middle of a blizzard on the floor of a cave he has shown me that he does indeed have a soft side.

  “Sleep now,” he whispers into my hair. The weight of his arm is just enough to make me feel secure. The strength of his body at my back is more than enough to help me know that I’m safe and nothing will be able to get to me tonight. The soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathes deeply into my hair pushes away my feelings of homesickness and helps me concentrate on the warmth that is suddenly overwhelming me.

  Ozmyx has my trust. Knowing that he’s here, even if it’s just for tonight, helps me to close my eyes and push all the bad thoughts out of my mind. I lie in his warmth, and finally drift back to sleep.

  I’m all by myself when I finally wake up the next morning. After that realization hits, I notice the huge snow drift in front of the cave entrance.

  Holy shit.

  When I woke up in the night there was definitely a heavy snow falling but I never would have thought this much would fall by morning. These drifts are going to be huge and I don’t know how the hell I’ll ever be able to jump through them. At the very least I’m going to need some sort of a snowshoe to keep me from sinking into the drifts.

  The warriors are all outside the cave, sitting around a huge fire. They’re moving slowly, in no apparent rush this morning. Maybe that’s for my benefit. After my night of tears perhaps Ozmyx told the others to just let me sleep and to move at a slower pace. The thought of it warms me on the inside. Or maybe it’s the image I get in my head of lying in Ozmyx’s arms last night. It has been a long time since I’ve slept with a man…literally and figuratively. I forgot how safe a strong man, or alien, can make me feel.

  They seem unconcerned about the amount of snow as they sit around the fire drinking and passing around breakfast rations. I suppose I should be grateful that the snow has stopped and we don’t have to trek through a blizzard today. A moment later, Ozmyx gets up and walks back toward the cave.

  “Here, eat,” he says, passing me a canteen and a small pouch of food. I’m thankful when I see that the pouch contains something similar to trail mix on Earth. There are pieces of dried meat and something that tastes very like granola, just not quite as sweet. It tastes so much better than some of the other options.

  I drink deeply from the canteen and pop a handful of the food mixture into my mouth. I swallow it and chase it down with another sip of water before I’m ready to tackle the plans for the day.

  “How much snow do you think fell last night?”

  He looks out of the cave and up towards the tops of the mountain. “At least two feet. We were certainly unlucky.”

  “So what are the plans for today, then? Are we going to hike through it? Because I don’t know how I can stay above the drifts.”

  “You don’t need to worry. There are ways I can get you safely through the snow.”

  I’m looking at his expression and it almost looks as if he’s going to smile. I’m intrigued, I’ve never seen him smile, not even with his own men. I thought the serious, concerned look was permanently affixed to his features. But now, there’s a slight curve of his full lips, tucking up into small dimples at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but something damn close.

  “I hope you’re thinking snowshoes.”

  The confused look is back, the same look that I’ve been putting on his face quite often lately. “What are snowshoes?”

  “It’s a type of shoe that helps you stay above the snow when you walk on it. It keeps you from falling down into it.”

  “Ah, yes. That makes sense for someone your size. Attalans are large enough to make it through the snow on their own. Just the way we were built.”
/>   “Well, it makes sense that you’d be well built to handle massive amounts of snow.”

  “Yes, I suppose it does.”

  I take another bite of my breakfast when I hear a whistling sound outside the cave. Ozmyx jumps up, standing just at the entrance.

  “What is it?” he yells to the warriors.

  “A jageon,” Veryn says. “Krenar scared it off with his arrow.”

  Before Ozmyx can answer, there’s another sound breaking through the still morning air. A distinct cracking coming from above us. I haven’t spent enough time in the mountains or in the snow to know what we’re in for next. But realization lights up all their features and the sudden chaos before me makes me think we’re under attack. Ozmyx throws what he can of the supplies into the cave and climbs in after it.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my heart pounding through my chest as I wait to find out what’s going on.

  “Avalanche,” he says.

  Ten

  OZMYX

  A cloud of snow is the precursor for the battering ram of a dense cascade of snow that will soon follow. I’ve just wrapped my arms around Savannah when the first wave barrels past the cave, pushing snow into the cave, surrounding our bodies as we’re almost pushed to the ground. Savannah screams into my chest while I hold her tightly, using my body to keep her from being swept off her feet and covered with snow.

  The snow continues moving swiftly down the side of the mountain and within minutes it’s calm and quiet, the only sound the steady beating of our hearts. Luckily the snow hasn’t completely filled the cave. There’s room to move and more importantly, there’s air to breathe.

  “We need to get out of here,” Savannah says into my chest. I look down at her clutching my body and I see the haze of panic surrounding her features, about to take over. “I hate small spaces,” she continues. Her eyes are closed and she’s shaking her head back and forth. I need to work quickly to get us out of here before she has a full-blown panic attack.

  “Stand at the back of the cave,” I tell her. At first she doesn’t move. It’s like her body won’t let her detach from me, I’m her only lifeboat in this endless sea of white. As gently as I can muster, I pull her arms from around my waist and move her backward further into the cave. I need space so I can dig us out.

  I nod my head at her before turning around and getting down on my knees. Using my hands, I start taking huge scoops of snow and pushing them to the side in order to make a path so we can get out of the cave. Hopefully the snow won’t be too deep once we’re out. The worst of it will most likely be at the bottom of the mountain.

  My hands are massive and they’re able to dig the snow quickly. Thanks to the genetic modifications, they aren’t getting cold either. The skin on my body is tough like leather, impervious to the elements. I’m perfectly adapted to the common frigid temperatures of this planet. Savannah, on the other hand, is not. She stands behind me, huddled into herself as I continue to dig. The snow isn’t heavy, yet. I’m moving quickly to take advantage of how loose it is. Once it settles and solidifies again, it will be hard as concrete. I find myself hoping the rest of my men were able to get out of the way and aren’t struggling themselves at the bottom of a snow heap.

  Ten more minutes and I’ve cleared a section of snow wide enough for the both of us to climb through. Savannah follows me wordlessly through the tunnel and within a few minutes we’re standing outside of the cave. We’re in the same place that we made camp the night before, but nothing is left. The snow swept everything away, leaving nothing behind. No trails, no tracks. No way for me to know which way the rest of the men went.

  “Everything’s gone,” Savannah says. She’s standing quietly next to me, hardly moving except for the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.

  “Yes.” I managed to salvage the supplies that we had inside of the cave, at least the things that didn’t get lost under the snow. We can’t worry about it now, though. The number one priority is getting back to the fortress.

  “We need to go after the others. We need to make sure they’re okay.” I look over at her, standing in snow drifts up to her knees. She can’t possibly be serious.

  “Our priority now is to get back to the fortress. The others can take care of themselves.” I take a moment to acclimate myself to our surroundings again. I’m debating whether our best bet is to continue through the mountains or find our way out. I can always carry Savannah if the snow becomes too deep for her to manage, but I want to make sure there aren’t any more surprises from here on out.

  I look back at her, ready to move out, when I notice that she’s just staring at me with a look that I can’t quite decipher. “They’re your men, of course we need to go after them,” she says, her voice full of disdain. “What if they were hurt in the avalanche? Or worse yet, what if they’re buried under the snow and need another set of hands to get them out?”

  “They are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves…and each other, for that matter. My priority is you. I need to get you back to safety. Wandering about, wasting valuable daylight isn’t a smart decision.”

  She continues to stare at me with a passion that I haven’t seen before from her. “I can’t just leave them behind. I need to make sure that they’re okay.”

  I feel my patience start to slip. I want to shout at her to just listen to me and do as I say. She doesn’t understand how quickly a situation can turn. She doesn’t understand what we’re up against out here. “By the time we get to the bottom of the mountain, they’ll be gone. It is wasted time that we could use to get closer to home before nightfall.”

  “You’re in charge of these men, aren’t you? Isn’t it your job to make sure they’re okay? How can you dismiss them so easily?”

  “Because I know them in a way that you do not. They do not need rescuing, Savannah.” I can hear the impatience in my voice but I can’t stop it. I’m not used to having to explain myself or to having my decisions questioned. But when I look at Savannah through my haze of frustration, I see something besides anger and defiance. Something that makes me finally give in and bend to her wishes.

  “Fine,” I say, situating our last pack of supplies onto my back so we can get moving. “We’ll go this route. Follow me.” I start walking down the mountain, headed in the direction of the avalanche. I’m angry at first as I start hiking down, not paying attention to how fast I’m moving or how deep the drifts are for her. It isn’t until I hear her make a quick gasp that I turn around and realize that she has fallen forward into the snow. The rocks can be icy making it easy to slip.

  I turn around and start to walk to her when she pulls herself up and brushes the snow off her pants. I reach out, offering her my hand but she waves me off. “I’m fine,” she says. “Let’s keep going.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she plows on through the snow, doing her best to ignore me in the process. I can’t say I blame her, really. I suppose I was trying to punish her by making this hike down the mountain as unpleasant as possible. I don’t know that I even realized I was doing it. I just wanted her to realize that she would do well to listen to me when we’re out here in an environment that I know like the back of my hand.

  We make our way down the rest of the mountain in silence. I try to slow down. I’m actively making an effort to make things easier on her when we finally reach the bottom. Everything is still, no signs of tracks or footprints of any kind. Like I thought, the others were able to avoid being trapped in the onslaught of snow. They’re not here. I’m about to tell her that I was right, that they were able to take care of themselves. But again, I stop myself. There’s a look on her face again that I can’t quite place, but it makes me hold my tongue. Instead I say, “Come, let’s keep moving.”

  I find myself thinking about Savannah and what’s going on inside of her head as we continue trudging through the snow. She has closed herself off to me, making no attempt to converse. Her head is down as she continues the miserable journey through the en
dless snow. She might not be Attalan, but I can tell from her body language that she wishes she could be anywhere but here.

  It surprises me that I’m bothered. Is it possible that I want her to show more of an interest in me? More appreciation? I don’t know what it is but there’s an emotion floating around inside of me that is foreign to me. Nagging at me as I walk. Distracting me from seeking out our path and leading her to safety tonight. On top of everything that has happened today, white snowflakes start to drop from the sky again, taunting us with their lazy descent. I was so distracted by Savannah that I wasn’t paying attention to the dark clouds that were rolling across the sky. It looks like we’re in for another storm.

  I begin to frantically search around, looking for anywhere that would provide adequate shelter for the night. There’s nothing but flat land and white snow for at least a few more miles. The mountains are far behind us now, with nothing in front of us but the possibility of shelter in the forest. We run the risk of being exposed to dangerous creatures and it definitely isn’t as warm as a cave would be, but it’s better than nothing.

  The snow is really picking up and the wind is beginning to whip it around. I pull Savannah under my arm so I can block some of the ice pellets that are stinging her body. Her light complexion has turned an angry red. She isn’t able to keep her warm in this type of weather. It’s times like these that our differences are all too apparent. Humans were not built to survive this weather.

  Suddenly she stumbles under my arm. I reach around her waist so she doesn’t fall, but it makes her cry out in pain. I loosen my grip but not so much that she falls. “Come on,” I say. “We need to keep going. We just need to make it to the trees and we’ll be able to find shelter.”

  She nods her head and I hear her utter an “Okay,” though it’s barely a whisper. Fear pulses through my blood, propelling me faster through the snow. Without asking for her consent, I lift her body in my arms, having decided I must carry her the rest of the way. She doesn’t protest. I don’t know what’s going on with her. It could be exhaustion, but we really haven’t traveled any further than we did the first day after we left the caves. Maybe everything is finally catching up with her. Whatever it is, I’ll feel much better once I get her somewhere safe and warm.