by Ruby Dixon
“Well, thank god they’re just dinosaur tracks, right? That means a long time ago.”
“How do we know we’re not still in the age of dinosaurs on this world, though, right?” She practically dances with excitement. “I mean, we could be in the middle of an ice age brought on by volcanic activity.”
“And…that means they all died out, right?” I stare at the pool in front of me, feeling a little sick. I don’t want to see a meat eater this large anywhere near the beach.
“Some of the big guys could have survived, but their habits would have changed and adapted to follow the environmental changes. Isn’t that awesome? Can you imagine?” She clutches my arm. “I mean, I’m picturing it as a reptile, but I’m still thinking like how things were on earth. What if this planet’s dominant species were never reptilian? Or avian, I guess, since dinosaurs were really the ancestors of birds. Either way, they wouldn’t have trouble adapting to an ice age like a dinosaur would.” She squeezes my arm excitedly. “This is so amazing.”
“That’s…nice.” I don’t find any of this amazing, but I hate to poop all over her enthusiasm when she’s clearly thrilled to learn all this.
Devi sighs. “I’m nerding out, aren’t I? Sorry. This is just a dream come true for me. At first I was scared to be here, but the longer that I’m here, the more there is to learn, and it’s just a scientific wet dream, honestly. I’m starting from ground zero, but it’s making my brain work hard and that’s exciting, you know?”
“I wish I shared your enthusiasm,” I tell her honestly. “It would make being here so much easier to swallow.”
Her smile is kind, and she puts away her knife, gazing down at the pool before looking back at me. “What did you used to do back on Earth?”
I stiffen. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I retort. At her shocked look, I immediately feel ashamed. We’ve been talking about her science stuff, so of course she’s asking. She’s being polite. “I’m sorry, Devi. I…just can’t talk about it, okay? This place isn’t exciting for me. It’s a nightmare.”
She puts a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to bring up bad memories.”
There’s a hard knot in my throat, full of resentment and grief. “I was going to have…everything. Everything’s been ripped away.”
“We all lost our home.”
That wasn’t what I meant, but I nod. She doesn’t quite understand.
My agent lifts her glass of champagne and clinks it to mine. “You’re going to be a star, Hannah Beckett. At this time next year, everyone in the world is going to know your name.”
I take a sip of the champagne, but it just sits funny in my stomach. I’m too excited by what she’s saying. “You really think so?”
“Honey, all the stars have lined up. There is maybe one big book a year that gets a push like this, and it’s yours. Next Tuesday, when your hardcover drops, you’re going to be on the front table of every bookstore in the country. There are posters of your cover in Germany, and in the subway in London. And I hear some really, really big names are interested in the movie adaptation. The director hasn’t said who yet, but he said they’re very close to signing an Oscar winner.”
It’s a dream come true. “All for my book? Really?”
She laughs. “Don’t be so modest. How many debut authors get television spots on morning shows?”
I’m still nervous about that, but I won’t have to think about it until Tuesday morning, the same day my book drops. My agent Kimmie says that everything’s designed to get my cover on everyone’s mind, right down to the shockingly lurid red cover with the block print emblazoned across the front. “What can I do until then?”
“Relax, get a facial to tighten those pores,” Kimmie says, gesturing at my nose. Then, she puts down her glass and reaches into her oversized purse. “And sign this early copy for me, so I can put it on my brag shelf.”
I take the pen from her, and the book, and lovingly gaze down at my name. It’s embossed in shiny silver—HANNAH BECKETT. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
All my wildest dreams are coming true. After two years of struggling to put the right words on paper, my book, In Search of a Hero, is finally going to meet the world. Biting my lip as if that’ll hold back the pride bursting through me, I try to flip the book open.
My fingers fumble against the dust jacket, and then I drop the pen.
Kimmie frowns at me.
“I’ll get that,” I say, reaching under the table to pick the pen up again. I retrieve it, then try to open the book once more, but I keep flipping to the wrong part of the book. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to find the right page, the title page, the one that I’m supposed to sign. Frustrated, I keep turning pages, but as I do, I realize they’re all blank…
I wake up with a gasp, staring up at the ceiling of the cave.
I’m covered in sweat. My khui hums, but I ignore it. I’m still rattled by what I just dreamed. Even though it was a dream, I can still feel the pen in my hand, still feel the embossed lettering of the dust jacket as my fingers move over the book.
My book. The one I’m never going to see on the shelves, because I was stolen by aliens two days before my massive international launch and book tour were supposed to begin.
A sob chokes in my throat.
It’s selfish to cry over what’s lost, but I really, really did lose everything. I thought I was going to be rich and famous, to live my dream of being an author. To see my book made into a movie. Now all that’s going to happen and I just won’t be around to see it. I stuff the corner of my fur blanket into my mouth, biting down on it to hold back my sobs. It’s so unfair.
Across the room, Callie rolls over restlessly, and I can hear her khui humming. Someone else groans. “We’re trying to sleep, Hannah,” Penny murmurs. “Take it outside.”
“Sorry,” I choke out. I wake up crying a lot, and while people were sympathetic at first, haven’t we all shed tears over what we’ve lost? Except the others are trying to move on and I’m still stuck in the past. In my mind, I’m still seeing that book with my name on the cover. I’m still drinking champagne with my agent.
I’m still waiting for a bright, amazing future that will never come.
I choke back another sob and stagger out of the room, wrapping furs around me to keep out the cold. It’s awful tonight, my breath puffing even in the sleeping cave, where all the bodies piled in normally keep it warm enough for pleasant sleep. Tonight it’s just insufferably cold, though, and I slip my boots on and head onto the beach. It’s the middle of the night and the main fire is low, though; the only person sitting by it is N’dek.
I don’t want to talk to him. Not really. He’s probably the only person here that’s lost more than I have, and we’d just be terrible company. I hug my furs tighter to my body, because it’s too chilly to stay out here in the dark without warmth of some kind, or at least shelter from the biting wind.
Maybe I’ll go start my morning count early. That’ll get me out of my head at least, and in the supply tent, I can have a nice cry all by myself and not wake anyone else up. Swiping at the tears that threaten to freeze to my cheeks, I cross through the maze of tents and head for the one at the back of the encampment, the one with the stored food inside it.
Once inside, I see the rows of baskets, carefully lidded and raised off the ground so nothing can crawl into them, and all of the strength in my body seems to disappear. I sag to the ground, huddling in my furs, and begin to weep. Hard, miserable sobs erupt from me, and I do my best to muffle them behind a hand, because even now there are people nearby and there’s no true privacy. But I need to cry. To let it all out.
Maybe someday it’ll stop hurting, the loss of one’s hopes and dreams, but for now, it still feels like an open wound and it aches. So I let myself have a good cry.
The baskets to my side move. I jerk back, a scream building in my throat as the shadows surge forward.
“Shhh,
H’nah,” J’shel murmurs, one of his many hands covering my mouth. “It is me.”
4
J’SHEL
K’thar and L’ren were right after all.
H’nah came to me.
I could not sleep this night, so I paced around the camp, listening to the miserable, lonely song of my khui as it called for a mate that would not answer. My need for her became so great I considered camouflaging and sneaking into the cave where the humans sleep, all so that I could gaze at her, but they would not like that.
Plus, camouflaging like that would mean I would need to be naked, and if they saw that, they would really be upset.
So I turned to the tent with the food supplies, where H’nah spends much of every morning, counting things that are impossible to count. Here, I would at least be able to drink in the remnants of her scent.
I did not expect her to stumble in during the night. I immediately camouflaged, blending into the shadows, and H’nah did not see me. I devoured the sight of her…until she began to cry.
Her tears wound me, because I cannot help them. I cannot remain hidden in the shadows, either, so I step out and move to her side.
She did not smell me or see me, it seems, nor did she notice the insistent song of her khui humming loudly in her breast. She is startled, a scream rising in her throat.
I immediately crouch behind her and cover her mouth with a hand, pressing her soft body against me. My forest instincts kick in—loud noises draw predators and must be muffled. We are no longer in the forest, I remember a moment later, but I do not let her go.
I cannot.
My body feels as if it is coming to life with the brush of her against me. I hold her close, one hand over her mouth, and another slides around her waist, supporting her even as she sags against me. Our khuis sing in unison, the song so loud I feel as if the nearby baskets will shake, but I do not care. All I care about is that soft, gentle H’nah is in my arms after so long. I bury my face against her neck, breathing in her perfect, sweet scent. “Do not cry,” I whisper against her skin, and it takes all of my strength not to lick her throat and taste her.
I can feel her quivering, her body heaving as she struggles to bite back her cries. She does not fight against me, but she does not lean into me, either. Her soft mane brushes against my face and I close my eyes, wanting to rub my face against it and drink in all of her.
She taps a finger over the hand I have pressed to her mouth, and I reluctantly let her go, my fingers lingering along the edge of her jaw. I keep a hand around her waist, though, determined to keep her close.
H’nah turns and slips out of my grasp, facing me. “Don’t touch me.” Her words are not angry, but they wound me just the same.
I watch her in the darkness, full of wanting. No, it is more than want. It is need. It consumes me, eats at my mind, leaves me unable to sleep or to even think straight. It would be so easy to just push her to the floor and touch her until she gave in to resonance…but that is the same as forcing her. H’nah must want me. I cannot have her otherwise, because I would never be able to live with myself if I did something to her that she did not want.
And it is clear she does not want me. Her shoulders are stiff, her look wary as she slides back just a little further.
Suddenly, I am tired. I am tired of all of this. I rub a hand down my face, because I just want to understand what I have done to her. “Why do you hate me so, H’nah?”
She looks genuinely surprised at my words. “I don’t hate you. I don’t know you. There’s nothing to hate. I just…I can’t do this.” She points at me, then back at herself. “This whole resonance thing.”
“Why not?”
H’nah takes a deep breath and then gives me a calm look. “Because I am going to go home.”
It is something I do not expect to hear. I laugh at her absurd claim. Does she tease me? “No, you are not.”
“Yes, I fucking am,” H’nah declares, lashing out at me. “I can’t spend the rest of my life here, farting around on a beach. I had a life back home. I had a freaking career! I don’t have anything here!”
This…is why she denies resonance? Because she refuses to accept her future? Because she thinks she is the only one that has suffered a loss? I get to my feet. “You think I did not lose anything?”
Her lips part.
“My world was destroyed by the Great Smoking Mountain,” I tell her. “Twice now, it has taken everything I know from me. The first time, it stole my family. It took away my mother and father, my brothers, my sister. It stole my chief. It stole every chance I had to resonate to another female. K’thar, N’dek, and myself were on our hunter’s challenge with two others and that is how we were spared. Because we not at home, tucked in our nests like my family was.” Thinking of them is hard, even now, and my throat tightens. “You think I did not wish that I was home with them so we could die together?”
H’nah’s mouth works silently. After a moment, she sniffs. “J’shel—”
I shake my head, cutting off her words. “I lost my home a second time just in the last turn of the moon, when the Great Smoking Mountain had its final revenge on us. My home is gone and I am stranded here, just like you. Do I feel sadness for what I have lost? Yes. But I will look to the future, because what else do I have?”
And even now I am lucky, because I have resonated. I have all of my limbs. The guilt of this still eats at me, gnawing at my belly.
I cannot stay here, alone with her, because my emotions are becoming too great. I want to fling her to the floor and rut atop her until I am spent. I want to shake her until she realizes we have all lost something. I want to press my mouth against hers like the way K’thar presses his to L’ren’s. I need to leave, because I do not trust myself around her.
“We have all lost everything,” I say flatly, and turn on my heel and walk away. My khui’s song immediately changes to one of frustration, the drumming of it in my chest growing louder as if in protest. I avoid the camp and head out to the beach, even though there is no light in the skies. Perhaps something interesting will wash up at night.
Perhaps pacing the shore all night will tire me enough so I can get some sleep.
HANNAH
I’m an asshole.
I sit in the tent for a moment longer, still shocked that J’shel chastised me. J’shel, who everyone praises as kind and nice and thoughtful. J’shel, who always looks at me with eager welcome. J’shel, who carries N’dek around selflessly all day long and makes sure he’s taken care of.
J’shel just told me I was being a baby.
And…I hate that he’s right. I’ve been crying and moping because fate’s taken my exciting career away from me. I was going to have a book that was going to be placed in so many stores and had so much advertising and early press that it was sure to be a runaway hit. A movie’s going to be made. I was supposed to get millions of dollars and my career would be launched into the stratosphere.
Now all that’s going to happen without me there. And so I’ve been whining and moping because I don’t get to be famous and rich.
But J’shel lost his family. And we’ve both lost our world and we’re stuck here.
So yeah, I’m a huge jerk. I let this soak in for a moment longer, and then I wipe my tears off my cheeks, straighten my furs around my shoulders, and head out to give him an apology.
When I approach the main fire, though, J’shel isn’t there. N’dek is, but he barely glances at me and resumes poking at the coals.
“Um, hi,” I say, feeling awkward. “Have you seen—”
Before I can answer, he points his stick at the beach. “He walks there. Alone.”
“Right. Thanks.” I’m not sure if that’s a subtle poke at me, but if it is, I deserve it. Head held high, I trudge into the dark, heading toward the beach and the waves that crash endlessly on shore.
Being here alone in the middle of the night is a little intimidating. There are no lights other than the distant campfire and the stars a
bove, and the sea looks ominous as it crashes and surges back and forth. I think of Devi and her massive dinosaur footprints, and of the tentacled things I’ve seen rising out of the waters, and hope nothing feels like venturing out to shore anytime soon. I don’t see J’shel, though, and worry he must have walked farther away than I realize. I head down the beach, toward the rocks, peering around for a broad set of shoulders. Something slaps against my boot and I jump, kicking away another one of the dead scorpion things. God, they really are everywhere. I hope all this dead stuff doesn’t attract predators to the beach. Worried, I pause and glance out at the waters—
And yelp aloud as a hand touches my arm.
Another one of J’shel’s hands immediately covers my mouth, and then his big, warm body presses up against me. He’s so tall and broad that it feels as if I’m being enveloped by him, and I imagine this is what it must feel like to be hugged by a bear.
“Shhh, H’nah,” he murmurs, his hand moving away from my mouth. “Others are sleeping.”
“Right,” I whisper, looking up at him. “I didn’t see you.”
“I shifted my camouflage for safety,” he murmurs. “Which is why you should not be out here in the dark alone.”
I want to say that I’m not alone, that he’s with me, but he’s still holding me close against his body. He’s got a hand at my hip and my cootie’s roaring nearly as loud as the ocean. All of this feels a little too intimate, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. “I needed to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For being selfish. For acting like I’m the only one that’s lost something. I know you have, too. Everyone has. I just…I lost something big. Something I’d been so excited about, and to have it snatched away overnight feels like a cruel joke. I’m still adjusting.”
“We all are,” he says simply, and his hand tightens on my hip. “There is much for all of us to adjust to.”
