by Marie Dry
“You consider marrying a Zyrgin warrior against your faith?”
Susannah relaxed. He didn’t have that dangerous quality in his voice anymore. After years of living with Brother Josephatus and his punishments, she’d learned to read the signs. She knew when a male was about to use his strength against her. The irony almost made her want to laugh hysterically. “It is against what I’ve been taught my whole life.” Taught by people who took her son from her.
He nodded, and, for a while, they stared at each other in silence. “What do you use this pit for?” he asked suddenly.
Susannah turned and, picking up her sketchbook, settled down with Killer sitting close to her. Instead of drawing again, she traced what she’d sketched with her forefinger. Sometimes she’d thought the only use for the pit was for Brother Josephatus to punish her. None of the others were ever forced to spend days inside it. She resisted the need to retch, and her stomach ached from her clenching the muscles there to control the impulse. Endless darkness, sweat running down her back, and the rustle of creatures coming to feast on her bleeding flesh.
“I don’t know. It’s always been here, but we never used it for anything.” She kept her eyes on the sketchbook.
“You lie to me, human.”
She looked down at him, couldn’t control the jerky motions. Those eyes seemed to look into her soul, and she lifted her chin. It was difficult. Brother Joseph had insisted that women should show the proper respect to men. Well, this was not a man, but an alien, and she was done with acting like she was inferior to anyone else. Just because she had pitch black hair and darker skin and her eyes slanted upward, didn’t mean she had less worth than anyone else. She drew Killer closer to her, taking comfort from his warm little body.
The alien studied Killer with the kind of look you gave a very tasty morsel or your biggest enemy.
“Tell me about this pit. What did you use it for before you dug it deeper?”
“How did you know I dug it deeper?”
“The soil is disturbed. It is clear that someone recently dug it deeper,” he said, not taking his eyes off Killer. There was something he wasn’t telling her. She wasn’t the only one keeping secrets here.
She really didn’t like the way he looked at her dog. “You touch my dog and being wounded in a pit will be the least of your problems, reptile.”
“I am not a reptile, and a weak human female cannot do anything to a superior Zyrgin warrior.”
“If you’re so superior, why are you the one in the pit?”
He cocked his head. “Maybe because I want to be here.”
“What does that mean?” She eyed the newly oiled grid. If the alien even looked as if he was going to try and break it, she’d grab Killer and go get the shovel. It was old and rusted but she’d hid it from the others, and it would make a good dent in Azagor’s head. She put her hand on Killer’s back, grounding herself.
Azagor bared a frighteningly large fang. “Why would you keep a rat, touch it, when you know it carries disease?”
“Killer is not a rat you...you alien scum. He’s a wonderful, gentle dog and the best pet a woman can ask for.” She needed her little dog with a desperation this warrior who had a stick in his shoulder and didn’t even flinch would never understand. He was strong. He didn’t know what it felt like to be helpless. No doubt, he’d never had to endure punishments for supposedly thinking sinful thoughts. No one would dare tear his child out of his arms.
Those eyes narrowed. “Why did you name your rat Killer?” He stared up at Killer and then, his gaze never leaving her dog, he threw back his head and made the most awful roaring sound, baring his ugly teeth. Killer trembled against her, and she knew it wasn’t with fear, but because he wanted to take on the thing in the pit. He barked, his I’m ready to fight to the death bark.
She was about to grab Killer and run when Azagor stopped as abruptly as he’d started. “He is small and weak. You should kill him. I will get you a better pet.” He absently scratched at his wound, and she swallowed. Didn’t he feel any pain? “The Aurelians have pets.” He said it as if having a pet was the strangest thing to do. “They are called battle leopards. It will protect you.” His lips pulled into what she supposed was his attempt at a smile. If he ever wanted to scare anyone to death, all he had to do was smile. “We’ll make the rat the first snack for your new pet.”
“Stop insulting my dog, and I don’t want leopards as pets, whatever they are.” Killer must’ve felt her agitation, because he growled at the alien and tried to jump into the hole to bite him. She caught him just in time. “Killer, no, don’t jump in the pit with the bad alien.”
“Let him jump.”
Was it her imagination or did he subtly flinch back when he thought Killer would get into the pit.
“I won’t give you the opportunity to hurt him.”
Not knowing what else to do, she continued sketching him. She couldn’t leave him wounded. She thought she could, but she simply wasn’t that cruel. The nights got cold in the mountains, and she didn’t want him to be cold. But apart from giving him a blanket and putting a tarp over the hole, she didn’t know what to do for him. He still hadn’t used the bandages and disinfectant she’d thrown down to him.
“Show me what you draw, human,” he said with that bossy attitude that made her want to get the shovel and whack him a good one.
She shrugged and showed him the sketch. Nothing he said could be worse than what she’d heard up to now.
“You are good.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she got to her feet. “I’m going to get some food for me and Killer. What do you eat?” She had this horrible fear of turning her back and him getting out of the hole and coming to kill her.
“I do not require sustenance.”
“Well, I’m not a superior Zyrg...whatever. I need to eat.”
That would be a problem if the resistance didn’t come soon. Living on berries and the few vegetables she managed to grow was sapping her strength. And the game might have returned, but she wasn’t equipped to go hunting in the snow. They also stayed away from the farm. It was as if they knew they’d be hunted if they came too close.
“Zyrgin warrior.”
“Whatever.” Shrugging, she went to her house, prepared some food for her and Killer, and then went back to the alien. She pushed one of the two blankets she’d managed to hide through the grid. “I’ve brought you a blanket. It gets chilly at night. If I read the signs right, we’ll have an early winter.”
She would be cold with only one blanket, but she couldn’t sleep under both, knowing he was out here in the cold. After she’d spend so much time freezing in that awful hole, it grated that she now did the same thing to him.
He didn’t reach for the blanket, merely sat watching with that expressionless face as it fell down into the pit. “I’m lowering a flash light as well. I’m going to cover the hole with a tarp for the night so that you don’t get too cold.” The flashlight was the one modern convenience the brothers allowed on the farms. She’d spent many nights in that pit, and she couldn’t make herself leave him alone in the dark.
He ignored the flashlight as well, and she gritted her teeth. He had no idea how difficult it was for her to surrender her only flashlight to him. Hiding it when the others left had taken a lot of courage and planning.
“I am a warrior.”
“Yeah, so? You still need a blanket.”
“I. Am. A. Warrior,” he said, and it was more growls than words.
“It. Gets. Cold. At. Night.” It was exhilarating, being able to argue with someone. Maybe when she was free and had Noah back, she’d argue a lot.
“Stop insulting me, woman.”
Fed up with him and his oddness, she covered the hole with a tarp and, holding Killer, went back to the house. The others had only left the walls and the door and some of the windows. Four of the windows had been in excellent condition, and they’d taken out those to take with them to the new farm. She co
uldn’t settle. Couldn’t enjoy playing with Killer as much as she normally did when she feared the alien would appear in the doorway with murder in his mind.
She barely slept that night, visions of finding him either frozen and barely alive or dead from his wound haunted her. She hated him. He was the cause of a lot of the bad things that happened to her in the last few years, but even so, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the thought of him suffering in that pit.
She sat against the wall, in the smallest room, rocking, while Killer nudged her with his nose. “I want the alien gone and my baby back, Killer.”
Killer made a soft moaning sound, showing his sympathy. During the day, she kept busy on the farm, trying to survive on her own. But at night, sitting in this shell of a house, cold and with nothing to do and no lights unless she wanted to use her torch or burn her precious candles, she couldn’t run from her sorrow. “What did I do wrong, Killer? Why am I punished like this?”
She got up early and took Killer outside and then ate the last of the berries. She’d kill for some eggs. The few chickens that had survived had gone with the others. The alien hadn’t eaten anything since she’d captured him, she thought, guilt heavy on her shoulders. It felt wrong thinking of eating eggs when he hadn’t had anything since she captured him. Wishing she didn’t have to trap and sell aliens, she went to the pit. She drew back the tarp, braced for a grisly sight or for the alien to try and make a grab for her.
He sat in exactly the same position she’d left him the previous day. Arrogance in every line of his body. She had the strangest feeling that it chafed him not to help her roll back the tarp, but that didn’t make sense.
“You should have a male to help you work on your farm.”
“Well, I don’t have a male, and I prefer it like that.” She’d had such dreams of a farm with her and Caine. Of raising their children. Now all she wanted was to have Noah and to never be at the mercy of the brothers and cousins again. At least she didn’t have to fear the punishments anymore.
“Do your drawing, my b--my female,” he said, as if giving her permission, and it set her teeth on edge.
This resentment and anger had started after she lost Caine. After she lost Noah, she sometimes wanted to scream and scream. One night, she’d hit her fists against the wall until they bled.
“What were you going to call me?” She had noticed him correcting himself before, and she had this horrible feeling that she would want to run, far and fast, if he called her what he originally intended.
Not answering and merely staring seemed to be his way to deal with questions he didn’t want to reply to.
Refusing to let him see how his stare rattled her, she settled down to sketch.
“Where is your rat?”
She’d left Killer at home this time. The way the alien eyed him didn’t bode well for her pet. Because of the large birds that had appeared about two years ago, she tended to keep him inside, even though he hated that. “That’s none of your business.” He was a prisoner. It was about time he started to act like it. And she wasn’t feeling guilty over the stick in his shoulder. She wasn’t.
“Why haven’t you taken the stick out of your shoulder?”
“It is for you to see to my wound and sponge me down.”
She threw up her hands. “What is it with you and sponges? I’m not touching you, just get used to that fact.”
“You will touch me, and you will sponge me down,” he said, and the conviction in his voice worried her. What did he know that she didn’t?
An hour later, she went back to the house and ate half of the last tomato. She wouldn’t starve, she reassured herself, but fear was a ball of straw in her stomach. The ground didn’t yield anything anymore. If the potatoes didn’t ripen, she was in trouble. Killer looked so woebegone when she told him to stay, she softened and allowed him to accompany her back to the alien. “But stay away from the hole, and if that alien breaks through the iron lid, run for all you’re worth.”
She blew out a relieved breath when she found her prisoner still sitting with his back against the dirt wall, the stick still in his shoulder. She’d had this eerie feeling ever since she caught him that he could get out any time he wanted to. And there was nothing she could do about it, but she hoped she was wrong and stick to her plan. The drawing should be finished today, and she’d leave it for the resistance. She’d captured him well enough that they should at least send someone to come and look. She only had to wait until they arrived and gave her the money she needed to get Noah back.
“If you tell me what you eat, I will try and get some food for you.” How hard could it be to catch a few bugs?
After a long, loaded silence, where those eyes drilled into her, he said, “I can go many days without eating.”
“Are you sure you don’t eat humans?” She couldn’t resist messing with him again. It was a heady feeling, being able to say anything and no one there to punish her for speaking out in a way a woman never should. She’d been thinking about that after she got the TC, and she wasn’t so convinced that Brother Josephatus was right about that anymore.
He thumped his head against the dirt wall again. If he kept doing that, he was going to break his skull. “We only eat humans who try to capture us.”
She scooted back. He looked hungry to her.
“How can you live with yourself, eating god-fearing folk?”
He snapped his teeth suggestively. “The god-fearing folk are extra tasty.”
He smiled up at her, and all she saw was fangs. Long ugly ones.
“I might eat you, little human, you look very tasty.” There was something suggestive in his words she didn’t understand, but it made her deeply uncomfortable.
She jumped up, and Killer, who had sat next to her, yipped and jumped away. Everything slowed around her, and while she stood, horror freezing her veins, Killer fell into the hole. His small paws scrabbled at the rusted iron of the trapdoor and then he fell. She saw his mouth move, knew he was barking and yipping, but she couldn’t hear him.
Susanna stood petrified, her heartbeat slowing, seeing the world around her through a tunnel. The only other time she’d felt this strange sensation was when she realized they’d taken Noah, and she’d never see him again. At the end of the strange twisting tunnel, she saw the alien’s green savage face staring up at her.
He held her tiny dog in his hand, and he and Killer stared at each other, Killer frozen and obviously not knowing what to do. At least the fall didn’t seem to have injured him. His bones were very fragile, and Caine had warned her they broke very easily. Azagor lifted his hand until he held Killer in front of his face and pulled his lips back from his teeth.
Abruptly life rushed back into her frozen limbs. “Don’t you dare eat him,” she screamed while praying Killer didn’t pee on the alien’s hand.
The alien looked at the dog and then at her, and his hand closed ever so slightly. Five claws pointed at Killer’s fragile head. He held her dog up to her like an offering, while his vicious claws slowly lengthened.
Chapter 5
Susannah heard a long, harsh moan, so full of sorrow, her heart contracted in sympathy. It took a long, long moment before she could move and think, before she realized those sounds came from her own throat.
She held out a trembling hand. “No, please, I’ll do anything. Just don’t eat him.”
He cocked his head, and her stomach turned at that reptilian movement from a being that held her precious Killer in his claws. “Anything, human?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll act like a breeder should, take me to your dwelling, look after my wound? Sponge me down when the fever comes?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do anything, just let him go. Please.” She knew she babbled, but she couldn’t think, she was so afraid for her little dog. “I’ll go get a ladder and help you out of the hole.” She started to run to the shed, but stopped and turned when she heard a grinding, grating sound behind her. As if someone was tearin
g iron like paper. She slapped her hands against her cheeks, not believing what her eyes saw.
The iron grid tore loose from the lock and slid open. The alien held Killer with his left hand, and he’d opened the grid with his right hand. His right shoulder had a stick in it, he’d been bleeding. How could he just open the grate? Before her horrified eyes, he jumped out. As if it was easy, as if he wasn’t wounded. He stalked up to her, Killer held in the palm of his hand, those vicious claws still surrounding his small quivering body. One thought reverberated through her mind. This monster was going to kill her and her dog, and she was going to die without ever seeing her son.
He took her arm and dragged her in the direction of the farmhouse. “You will take out the stick in my shoulder. You will care for my wound, and when the fever comes, you will sponge me down.”
“All right, please just give Killer to me.” He was so strong he didn’t need to keep her dog hostage. She swallowed. He could do anything to her, and she just wasn’t strong enough to stop him. If he could open a steel trapdoor that easily, what good would her shovel be against him? Bitterness settled into her heart like a nettle bush shooting out roots. It was happening again, someone taking away her choices. She couldn’t even trust in a stupid pit and trapdoor to keep her prisoner inside.
Inside the house, he stopped and stared at the table with the broken leg she’d hammered back into place. The table stood lopsided because she didn’t do a very good job. She didn’t care. If it had been in good condition, the others would’ve taken it. “Where is your bedroom?”
Her legs gave way beneath her, but he held her while Killer barked, probably sensing her distress.
“Do I need to slice off one of your pet’s legs?” He moved the long claw on his forefinger suggestively.
Susannah shuddered. “Down the hall, the last room.” They normally built long rectangular buildings where everyone, except the brother and his wife, slept on bunks. On this farm, they’d used the existing farm house because it was so big and, as a result, fewer of them had to share rooms. Brother Joseph said she carried sin on her face, and she’d been put in a small room that was probably used as a linen cupboard before. She didn’t mind because it had afforded her privacy, but she was careful to act dejected about having to sleep there. They had to use water from the well as the bathrooms didn’t work anymore.
