Hannah's Hero (Icehome Book 6)

by Ruby Dixon

  Well, that and Devi walked up and started cutting up some dead scorpion-looking thing a few feet away, right before our eyes. Just walked up and started hacking away at the damn thing, pulling it apart and studying the bits. Sam, Flor and I have been staring at her in horror for the last few minutes, hoping she would stop, but she just keeps going.

  It’s kind of like watching a train wreck in action. I keep hoping she’ll stop and part of me wonders what piece she’s going to pull free from the carcass next.

  “Oh gross, she’s moving on to another,” Flor whispers, hugging her fur wrap closer to her chest. “Is she going to do this all day?” She shoots me a look. “Go stop her, Hannah. She’s obviously having a psychotic breakdown.”

  Sam and Flor both look at me, the sea breeze ruffling their hair. I open my mouth to protest, but then Devi pulls another dead creature toward her and starts to slice it open with her knife, studying it as she crouches at the edges of the waves. All right, it does look a little Dexter-ish. “Where’s she getting all the dead things from anyhow?” I ask.

  Sam shrugs, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “Raahosh and Taushen say that the beach is too cold.”

  “No shit,” Flor says, giggling.

  Sam nudges her, a hint of a smile curving her mouth. “I’m serious. They said the water never ices up and look at it.” She gestures at one of the waves that rolls in, and she’s not wrong—it’s so full of ice that it looks like a wave made entirely of Slurpee. “They said the weather’s weird and that’s why all the dead animals keep washing up on the shore.”

  “Is that why she’s dissecting them?” I ask. “She wants a snack?”

  “Don’t be gross,” Flor says. “Just go make her stop, all right?”

  “Why me?”

  “You came up last on the beach,” Sam says. “Last in first out. That’s the rule.”

  There’s a damn rule? I stare at the other two women, my brows furrowed together. I came to hang out with them on the beach because I’m avoiding camp, not because I wanted to nag someone else. But…the other girls intimidate me. I’ve never exactly felt like I fit in around them. From the beginning, I’ve been no one’s favorite. It’s been a stressful situation, and in times of stress, I try to control the situation. I might have been a little bossy to a few people. And a few aliens. And like, maybe I got a little stern with people when they hit up the food supply while I was trying to count things. It’s how I cope.

  Plus, I’m fat. I can’t hunt or swim or hike or anything super athletic. I have no coordination whatsoever, and no applicable life skills. I don’t know how to cook, or sew, or weave, so I figured I could be in charge of supplies. That was obviously the wrong tactic to take, though, because I irritated everyone and now I feel like a leper. Even the aliens don’t like me because I’m not constantly humping on J’shel or something, so I’m even more alone than ever.

  I stare at Sam and Flor, hoping they won’t ask me to go up to Devi and lecture her. Flor’s pretty and cute, but Sam looks like a damn movie star. She’s utterly gorgeous, with porcelain skin and beautiful waves of reddish blonde hair. And she looks at me expectantly too, and I feel the same intimidation around her that I always felt around the pretty girls back in high school.

  I know they just want me to go talk to Devi because she’ll get mad at me, and then I’ll have another person that hates my guts. “I heard Bridget arguing with A’tam earlier,” I blurt out, feeling the need to be included. What better way to be included than gossip? “She yelled at him and then at Raahosh when he came to chastise her.”

  Flor’s eyes open wide in surprise, but Sam just purses her lips and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “That was doomed from the start.”

  “You knew?” I shouldn’t be surprised—Bridget and Sam are close friends. Of course Sam would know Bridget’s secrets.

  Sam nods.

  “Damn it, no one tells me anything,” Flordeliza complains. She nudges Sam. “Spill the beans.”

  Sam bites one of her Angelina-Jolie-esque lips—seriously, is it entirely possible for one person to hit the genetic lottery, because it’s so unfair how pretty she is—and leans in close. “They had sex one night but…she wasn’t a fan. Said his mouth was nice but the equipment was all wrong.”

  “All wrong? Like…tentacles?” Flor wiggles her eyebrows.

  “What? Fuck, no. I mean just…” Sam spreads her hands, indicating an enormous size. “Baseball bat wrong, you know? She said it was uncomfortable. Mouth was a big yes, dick was a big no.”

  I’m the one that leans in this time. “Is his dick really the size of a baseball bat?” I try to recall if I ever saw A’tam naked. I mean…maybe? Most of the islanders don’t grasp the concept of nudity and that it’s impolite, but I’m pretty sure I’d recall a Louisville Slugger hanging between someone’s thighs.

  Flor considers this. “I don’t think so. I’ve been studying loincloth ah, landscape. Unless he’s a grower and not a shower, he’s big but he’s not a baseball bat. Baby’s arm, maybe.” She gives me a mischievous wink.

  I snort-giggle with laughter behind a hand.

  Sam rolls her eyes at us. “It’s a figure of speech. And anyway, he got clingy super fast. Started calling her his mate and announcing that she needed to move in with him like he owned her, and she bailed out. She doesn’t want a man right now.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand. Why sleep with him if you don’t want a relationship?”

  “Uh, hello, have you seen him?” Flor gives me an incredulous look. “He’s the alien Brad Pitt. I’d let him slide into home.” And she giggles at her own joke.

  “Oh, shut up, Flor,” Sam says, laughing. It’s hard to stay mad at Flor when she’s constantly making jokes…even if they’re bad ones. “And Bridget slept with him because she was bored. I mean, we can’t all count all day like Hannah.”

  I stick my tongue out at Sam as Flordeliza chuckles, but her words hurt my feelings. Great. I’m the tribe punchline. “Sorry if I don’t have any valuable skills to contribute.”

  “Who does?” Sam shrugs. “I was a barista. If we ever find a milk frother, I’ll be the most popular girl on the planet. Until then, I’m useless.” She gives us a big, beaming smile. “But I’m glad to be here.”

  Flor gives a little grunt. “Not sure I can say the same. This cold beats me down.”

  “What did you do back home, Flor?” I ask her, curious.

  “I was a nurse.”

  “You were?” I’m surprised to hear that. We have Veronica who does healing, thanks to her khui, but Flor’s never shown any indication to pitch in. “But you never help Veronica?”

  Flor gives me an incredulous look. “Because she doesn’t need my help. What, should I help her out with the blood pressure machine? Hand out meds?” Her lip curls slightly. “All that’s left to do around here is change the bedpans and fucking no thanks. I’ll figure something else out to do with myself.”

  “Oh.” I feel stupid for asking. I’ve been to a hospital before. Of course most of Flor’s skills don’t carry over, especially when Veronica can heal things with a touch of her hands. “Sorry.”

  She pats my arm, and I can see a flash of frustration cross her face. “I’m just annoyed. All that schooling and student loans and where does it get me? Here.” She gestures at the icy beach. “Watching my friend pick apart a dead lobster on the beach because I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  Sam looks at me. “So what did you do back home, Hannah?”

  My mouth goes dry. Crushing sadness moves over me, followed by that intense panic and need to return home. I can’t say that to the others, though. They’d just laugh at me. I stare at Devi, who’s lost in her own little world. “I think I’ll go see if I can get Devi to stop.”

  “Someone should,” Flor calls after me as I move forward. “You have fun.”

  I walk down the beach, toward the waves where Devi crouches, knife in hand. I’m not really paying attention to her. I’m too fixed o
n my own sadness. To think I was handed the world only to have it snatched away again. It hurts so badly to think about everything I’ve lost. It’s not fair. I shouldn’t be here. The aliens wanted slaves. Of course they grabbed Samantha, who’s gorgeous. Of course they picked pretty, delicate Flordeliza and willowy Devi. Or Lauren, or Callie, or Marisol. They’re all so pretty and appealing.

  I’m just Hannah, and apparently I annoy everyone with my obsessive need to control a situation I have absolutely no control over.

  “Wait!” Devi yelps, catching my attention. She raises a hand in the air, palm in my direction. “Stop right there! You’re going to step on it.”

  I look down at my feet. “Step on what?” It looks like scattered bits of creature all over the sand. It’s…disgusting. She’s spread the organs out in neat little rows and pulled the spidery legs off and done the same. The poor husk of the thing looks like it’s been ravaged and torn to pieces. “This mess?”

  Devi gets to her feet, an exasperated look on her face. “I’m studying it, Hannah. You’re going to step on my specimens.” And she picks up the limp scorpion thing in her hand and moves to my side, gently pushing me out of the way. “You’re stepping on the stomach gland. Or at least I think it’s the stomach gland. I’ll need to find one with food in it to be able to tell for sure.”

  I stare at her in horror, lifting my foot. “Where…”

  She points next to her side. “Come stand here so you don’t mess anything up.”

  I do as she says, but I can’t help but point out, “Mess anything up? Devi, you’re carving up dead things on the beach. The others are worried about you.”

  Devi gives me a curious look. “Worried about me?”

  “Psychotic breakdown?”

  She blinks, digesting that, and then shakes the dead thing in her hand at me. “This is perfect, though! The people here use everything—all the meat, the organs, the bones, the skin—so I can’t exactly take pieces of what we’re using and study it. But with the dead things on the beach, we’re not going to eat them, so I’m free to do as I like!” The words rush out of her and she shakes the scorpion thing at me again. “Do you know this thing has a spine? Isn’t that exciting?”

  “Yippee?”

  A frustrated sound rises out of her throat. “Hannah, crustaceans back home don’t have spines. They’re arthropods.” When I continue to stare at her blankly, she purses her lips and then continues. “I thought these were crustaceans because they have hard shells, you know? And claws. But then I found the spine and it got me excited, because if they have spines, they’re not arthropods at all. I’m still thinking in terms of earth species.” Her eyes glitter with enthusiasm and she gestures at the mess of critter parts on the beach. “So I’m trying to see what the differences are, and did you know that these are entirely different species? There are at least three types of beach scorpions, all with very different characteristics.” She picks up the claw of the one in her hand and opens it. “Look at the hinge here. Look at the serration on the edge of the claw. That’s unique to this particular subset. I’ve found at least two others that don’t have the same features, so I’m trying to find more examples to see if this is just an anomaly or if we really do have different species living alongside each other in this ecosystem…” Her excitement dies when I remain silent and eventually she drops her hand, the beach scorpion drooping at her side. “I’m not crazy.”

  “I didn’t say that.” I put my hands in the air. “I mean, some people might be saying it, but not me. Remember, I’m the one that counts everything.” I’d never call another person crazy for keeping themselves from snapping. “I get being bored, but maybe this isn’t the way to do it?”

  “Phyology,” Devi says, toying with the pincher of her dead scorpion.

  “Huh?”

  “I was working on my doctorate. Between university projects, of course. My degree was in paleophysiology but my specialty was phyology.”

  “I…don’t know what that is.” Is she going to tell me everything she lost back home and then we’ll be stuck in another woe-is-me conversation? But Devi doesn’t look sad. If anything, she looks impatient, as if I’m keeping her from her studies of dead things.

  “It’s a study of evolutionary trees and how things came to change over time. You know how everyone thinks dinosaurs were the ancestors of birds? Phyology studies all the connections and family trees of species that tie them back to see how the species evolved. It’s really fascinating stuff.”

  “Sounds like—” I begin, but she’s already moving past me on the beach, crouching next to the dead, dissected scorpion.

  “Some of the lifeforms here remind me of Permian crustacea,” she says excitedly. “But spines, of course, so that can’t be it.”

  “Of course.” I crouch next to her, trying to see what she sees.

  “So I was wondering if this planet is in its version of its Permian period. I sure hope not, though, because you know that ended badly.” She laughs and shakes her head, then plops her scorpion down on the beach and carefully slices him open. “This might smell.”

  I put my hand to my nose, but it’s too late. The smell of rot is already wafting on the ocean breeze and I fight not to gag. “So wait, what do you mean it ended badly?”

  “There was a mass extinction at the end of the Permian period, remember? The world exploded in volcanic activity and it killed off almost all of the life on Earth and ushered in the Triassic, which was when the dinosaurs grew to dominancy.”

  “I…guess I forgot.” I swallow hard. “The volcano on the island…”

  “Right? It blew up and destroyed the entire island. That made me wonder if this planet is either heading into an extinction event or just coming out of one, you know? My money’s on coming out of one, because there’s a distinct lack of diversity in species. Or at least, I thought so. Plus, we haven’t seen any of the big guys.” She pulls apart the chest of the scorpion thing and then makes a triumphant sound. “Spine!”

  I try to digest everything Devi’s dumping on me. The words “extinction event” have me terrified, but I keep circling back to something else instead. “Um, big guys? What big guys?” She keeps digging at her creature, studying it and humming to herself, so wrapped up in her work that I have to tap her shoulder to get her attention again. “Devi? What big guys?”

  She looks up at me, frowning, and then realization crosses her face. “Oh! The big guys that left depressions on the beach, of course. The footprints.”

  I look up and down the beach, but the only thing I see are my own footprints. “The Strong Arm guys?” Of course, thinking about them makes me think about J’shel, and my cootie fires up. It begins a loud, noisy vibration in my chest and I rub it, wishing that a touch would make it stop.

  It’s not my touch the damn thing wants, though.

  Devi looks up at me, squinting. “What? What about them?”

  I blush. “Uh, you said the big guys left tracks on the beach?”

  She giggles and gets to her feet, dusting her leathers off. “No, come here. Let me show you something.” She shakes her head. “Strong Arm guys. Oh man, that’s a good one.”

  I can feel my face getting redder and redder as I fall into step behind her. We head down the beach and I glance over at Sam and Flor, but they’re deep in conversation with Callie, who’s just joined them on the beach. I wonder if they’re gossiping about me, and I feel like I just gave Devi fuel to add to the fire by bringing up Strong Arm. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I say Tall Horn? They’re just as big, and they’re even taller, really. Or Shadow Cat?

  I know why, though. It’s because my brain constantly goes to J’shel. J’shel and his long braid, J’shel and his four big arms, J’shel and his hot eyes that devour me every time I look in his direction—

  “Over here, Hannah,” Devi calls excitedly, and I realize I’ve fallen behind her. “I’ll show you.”

  I jog to catch up to her, and I’m surprised that she stops at one of the rocky t
ide pools that litter the beach. She gestures to it and then looks at me. I study it, trying to see a footprint or two, but all I see is the pool itself, complete with barnacle-looking things that crust the edges of the rocks and a half-buried beach-scorpion that might find itself on the wrong end of Devi’s knife if she notices he’s there. “What am I looking at?”

  She makes a frustrated noise and gestures at the pool again. “The footprint!”

  “Where?”

  “Dude.” She puts a hand to my neck, as if trying to guide my face—and thus, my eyes. “Do you think tide pools normally have three big toes? Come on, Hannah.”

  I stare down at the tide pool at my feet. I never noticed until now but she’s right. The pool isn’t rounded in the slightest. It’s elongated, narrowing down to an almost-point at one end, and the other end splays wide, with three jagged ends as if there are three toes.

  Or three claws.

  And the entire pool’s big enough to be a hot tub that would seat me and J’shel both.

  Not that I’m thinking about him.

  I rub my eyes. “I mean, how do you think this is a footprint?”

  “Because they go up and down the beach, dummy. And they’re old, really old. Did you ever seen dinosaur tracks as a kid?” When I shake my head, she sighs. “They’re so old that the rock has formed around them. I’m guessing a long time ago this was a bog, or muddy, and when it dried out it preserved the tracks long enough that they’re still around to this day.” She points along the rocky beach. “They keep going all in that direction.”

  I gaze where she points, and sure enough, I can see more pools. How did I never notice that they were all lined up and around the same size? “Do you think that the sa-kohtsk made them? The big thing with the long legs?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Those have rounded prints, like a sauropod. These sharper edges indicate that whatever was stepping here had claws, which indicates a carnivore, if their dinosaurs were anything like ours.”