Now I was stuck in an unknown town with no food, no water, and no idea how to get to safety. When I couldn’t cry anymore, I laid my head against a stack of boxes and breathed deeply.
After a few calming minutes, I stood and took stock of my surroundings. I needed light. And I was in an unlocked building with too many windows. If desperate humans-or patrolling aliens-came wandering in…
I locked the door and pushed a table against it. It wouldn’t do anything if someone decided to break the glass, but it made me feel better. I also shut the blinds on all the windows and took the time to flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed.’ People can be extremely suggestible. Even someone looking to break in would look at a shuttered building with a closed sign and assume it might be hard to get in.
Or so I hoped.
I dug through a drawer in the office, found a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, and a candle. “Bingo,” I said. Funny how small things in a dire situation take on new significance. It was one of those candles you see on roadside memorials, a sticker of a Catholic saint plastered across the front. I wasn’t a religious woman, but I gave a small prayer of thanks to Saint Whoever and pocketed the cigarettes.
I lit the candle and walked into the kitchen. The walk-in freezer was still cold, and the grill still worked. I shifted aside some boxes and came across a variety of bottled drinks. Water!
I dragged a few boxes and chairs from the manager’s office to block the swinging doors from the dining area to the kitchen. The single window in the kitchen, set high off the ground, was far too small for an adult to fit through. I locked it anyway. On second thought, I took the butt of a kitchen knife and knocked a hole in the glass. With the electricity out, the exhaust fans of the stove wouldn’t be working, and I didn’t want to die of carbon monoxide poisoning while I slept.
As soon as I took care of my need for shelter, a wave of hunger hit me. I ripped open a box of pastries and wolfed a couple down. As I ate, it was as if the weight and tension of the past few hours lifted. After downing a bottle of water, I scavenged some papers from the manager’s office and crumpled them, then added them to a few shards of wood broken off a palette. I used the lighter to make a small fire as close to the window as possible and found a bucket of dirty mop water in case it got out of control.
I grabbed two sharp paring knives and slid one into my bag, keeping the other one in my hand. In a town, one was used to hearing the sounds of humanity, parents coming home late from work, children called at curfew, or at least the muffled noise of a television or radio. But the night was eerily quiet except for the crackle of my small fire.
I gathered a few aprons in desperate need of a wash and rolled them into a pillow. I removed the helmet and body armor, keeping both next to me, along with the knife, in case I needed them. I also shoved more pastries and two bottles of water into my bag. If I needed to get away fast, the extra supplies would help me survive a few more days in the forest. I laid down near the fire, its flames low to the tile, and wondered what had become of Colonel Jackson. I didn’t wonder long. Exhausted, within a minute or two, I slept.
20
David
“Stop pushing, you alien bastards,” I spat.
A had a guard of four aliens marching me through the forest. Two of them kept their hands on my shoulders, shoving me along, while the other two kept their guns trained on me. After the slaughter ended, the aliens took my gun and helmet but let me keep my clothes and boots. They then put me in restraints of their own design and started marching me through the forest. The restraints were light, but a thin string extended between the shackles, making it impossible for me to move my feet or hands more than six inches at a time, which made their shoves piss me off. How was I supposed to walk any faster?
“Quiet, human,” the commander said from the head of the line. It didn’t look back.
We’d walked more than an hour when the mothership came into view. It towered above the forest. As we neared the ship, I spied structures clustered around it—they’d set up a camp. Some aliens gathered around fires, and I started as a few smaller aliens ran across our path. They looked different than their parents, more bird-like than reptilian. Small feathers dotted their bodies and their torsos were more compact, their legs shorter.
Several aliens stared at me as we passed, a few young ones coming close and making trilling sounds. One of my guards barked at them in their native language, and the juveniles darted off. I was surprised to see some of the aliens wearing clothing, or the approximation of it, with folds of fabric draped around their bodies. Their homeworld must have been warmer than ours, or perhaps togas were their style.
We reached the ship and I gazed up its gargantuan height, dazzled by the size of it. “Damn,” I muttered as a hatch descended. A towering alien stepped out, taller than all the others around me. It wore the toga-like folds of cloth over its body and some sort of fur pelt over its shoulders. Rings of metal encircled its wrists and parts of its legs, and it wore a snug helmet. I observed the same red spikes like the commander’s on the back of its neck.
The soldiers around me backed away and lowered their heads in deference. The commander dropped its gaze as well, and the two had a brief exchange in their sibilant, clicking language. The commander put its hands on my shoulders and pushed, causing me to fall to my knees. I kept my gaze down at the alien’s feet. Far be it from me to piss the big one off.
“You may look up, human,” it said. “I understand you are the one responsible for our current situation.” It gestured around the campsite and the damaged ship.
I nodded.
“What do you have to say for yourself? Speak!”
Here we go. I licked my lips. “Lt. Colonel David Jackson, number 302081730, currently serving the United States Air Force.”
“We know who you are. You attacked my people. You killed many of us.”
“Lt. Colonel David Jackson, number 302081730, currently serving the United States Air Force.”
“You mock me? I shall let my people rip you apart and eat you piece by piece while you still live. We will all enjoy your screams.”
I blanched and felt sick to my stomach.
The alien barked, and I realized it was laughter. “Do not worry, human. Unlike your barbaric race, we do not treat our prisoners this way—unless necessary.” The leader nodded at the soldiers behind me and they came forward and assisted me up.
“Remove his bonds. He is no threat to us.”
They did as ordered and I rubbed my wrists.
“Thank you.” I guess?
“Are you hungry, human? You must be. Thirsty, too, I am certain.” I nodded.
The alien gestured at my guards as I rubbed my wrists some more. The soldiers turned away as the chief alien stepped toward me. I leaned away, yet it put its massive, clawed hand on my shoulder and led me into their ship. “Come. Food and rest awaits you.”
Guess I had no choice. I avoided the blank stares as I entered their ship.
The mothership was the size of a city with honeycombs of passages, rooms, and larger areas for complex machinery, common areas, and other necessities an ark required. As we walked, the chief alien informed me about the ship, its people, and the status of their race.
We arrived at an infirmary where another alien had me lay down on an exam table where what looked like a ring with lasers pointed down at my body passed over me. Alien medics tended more than a dozen others here, a few with surface wounds like Ko’s, others suffering from more serious injuries. To my dismay, I saw an alien child being attached with a prosthetic limb. It stared ahead as the medic fixed its new leg in place. Then it saw me and started to cry out, the medical technician rushing to calm it. Another young alien was brought in on a stretcher, a gash running down its leg streaming blood. It cried as its parent held its hand, saying something in their language. I looked away.
When their device finished assessing me, the alien pronounced that I was mostly healthy except for a few cuts and bruises. It sani
tized my cuts with a green sticky paste that stung like hydrogen peroxide but hardened into an artificial scab over the cut. They also gave me food and water. The water smelled clean enough, but the food looked a little strange. I sniffed it before I ate it. It reminded me of the time I ate seaweed as a kid when my parents brought me to the beach. I didn’t really like the taste, but food was food, and I needed the energy.
The alien attending to me never looked me in the eyes. The chief alien stayed with us the entire time, standing a few feet away. It watched me eat with fascination and then led me to another room, hand still on my shoulder. It made me nervous to feel the tips of its claws digging into the fabric of my uniform.
We were in front of a room that resembled standard crew quarters on a Navy ship—single bed, sink, toilet. These weren’t built for humans, but I recognized their use.
“You shall remain here, Lt. Col. Jackson.” The alien nudged me inside and raised a hand to press a panel on the wall.
“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“What do I call you?”
It laughed, the barking sound grating in my ears. “Call me nothing. You are not worthy of my name.” It pressed the panel, and the door shut.
I had been asleep for what felt like a couple of hours when the door slammed open again. It slid shut once more, but I had the strong sense I was no longer alone. I didn’t move, staying still as possible. Then I smelled the alien in the darkness, a scent of dank, reptilian skin. I blinked, attempting to adjust my eyes.
“I know you are awake, human. You killed my family.”
I heard its breathing, raspy and strange. It sounded winded…or maybe injured?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was under orders. They would have killed me if I didn’t do what I did.” The last sentence was an out and out lie, of course, but this alien didn’t know that. I suspected my life was in danger, so if it got me some sympathy, I’d play that card.
My body was lifted and shaken violently, then slammed into the wall. My breath rushed from my lungs as an alien hand closed around my throat, and my feet flailed, searching for floor.
“You killed my son. My mate,” it hissed, its fetid breath hot against the skin of my face.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The alien’s fingers closed around my neck, and I gasped, unable to breathe. I grasped its thick wrist with both hands and kicked at it, but I might as well be kicking a brick wall. The darkness of the room turned even darker.
“Please,” I managed to croak. The tunnel was almost dark now.
Without warning, it dropped me.
I sprawled on the cool floor and tried not to faint as I gasped for air.
The alien growled a guttural noise, though I detected it backing away. Weak and ineffective, I crouched into a fighting position I knew wouldn’t do me a damned bit of good if it came at me again.
“You do not deserve to live. None of your pathetic species deserves to live.”
I was trapped in an unlit cage with an angry tiger. It spat words at me in its native tongue. I couldn’t understand them, but knew it wasn’t a compliment. “I told them we should never have tried to make contact. We should have taken what we needed and left you worthless humans to your fates.”
“What do you want?” I asked between breaths.
“You will cooperate fully. You will withhold nothing. When the time comes to speak, do so quickly. We will know if you lie. Speak truth, and you will receive a clean death. Lie, and I will rip your soft belly open and feed on your insides whole while you yet live. I am hoping you choose to lie, human. I want to taste your flesh myself.”
The door opened, and I saw the alien’s large silhouette leave the room. I’d let my guard down, forgotten I was a prisoner. I wondered if anyone even knew I was still alive. I expect the brass thought I was chopped liver like the rest of the men at the battle site.
I backed against the wall as it hit me. I was going to die on this ship. They were only keeping me alive until they could get Ko and the data crystal back…then I remembered Alexandra. She’d fled with the crystal, and who knows what happened to her. Likely, the woman lay dead in that forest somewhere.
I turned and slammed my fists into the wall, making a massive bang. “God DAMN it!”
I cried then. I’d been through a couple tours during my time in the military and witnessed some horrific things. I’d seen drones fire missiles into buildings, never being sure of who was in them. I’d accompanied marines on infiltration missions. I’d watched a mother clutch her dead child, screaming. Now I’d seen men die in the most twisted and painful ways. And my options now were to play it right for a quick death, or give the wrong answers and be tortured, killed, and eaten—and maybe not in that order.
I didn’t have a wife or children, but I had friends and family. There were things I wanted to do and say. Everyone who signs up for the service understands they might die. Hell, they might be at peace with it. But I’d never known a soldier who wasn’t afraid at the end. I crawled back to the bed, letting exhaustion take over. I cried myself to sleep, and I had no dreams.
At some point, I woke. The room was dimly lit now, so I sat up and took a few deep breaths, wishing this had all been a nightmare. When the door opened, I was ready. I vaulted up and aimed a kick at the alien. The chief stood in the doorway, head cocked at my attack.
I stumbled, trying to stop my forward motion, and ended up falling flat on the floor. The chief loomed over me.
“Why did you do that?” the alien asked.
I lay on my back, looking up. “I thought you were here to kill me.”
The alien barked a laugh. “If I wished that, don’t you think you’d be dead already? Come.”
I stood and followed the chief out of my cell. I told it of my attacker.
“Impossible,” it said as we continued walking. “Your door is keyed to my identification only. It is not possible for another to enter.”
“Well, someone did. They weren’t friendly.” I showed it the fresh bruises around my throat.
“Hm. I will set guards outside your door from now on. There is a faction among us that does not wish to help your species. I would apologize for their behavior, but I also cannot blame them. Many of us have died and there is much grief. Most of our population survived your attack—survived being a relative term. Our ship is in worse shape than its passengers. Your missile damaged critical systems. Our life support is destroyed. Most of our propulsion systems are off-line. Those can be repaired, but not without an extensive amount of time, effort, and materials. If we are unable to complete that task, our ship may never fly again. We will be trapped on your planet awaiting the fate our world has already suffered.”
We arrived at their weapons station, where the chief had me sit in one of the odd-shaped chairs behind a command post. “You can see here that we, too, have weapons. You had a first-hand view of what some of them can do, and those were the least of our capability. Even with the damage you’ve caused our ship, we possess the ability to wipe out your species. Our fighters alone can dot this planet with craters on all major cities. We have weapons that would tear your biologies apart within a matter of weeks. Yet, I am of the mind we should not obliterate you humans. Should your warriors attack us again, I will change my mind.”
I nodded.
“I understand you have nuclear capabilities?”
I nodded again. Shit, how much did this thing know about us?
“Are your warriors likely to use them again?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Your ship has crashed on United States soil. It wouldn’t look good for us if we fired missiles on our own.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
“No. This is an unprecedented event for us as a species. We’ve already done things the military has never thought of doing. We’ve never fired nuclear missiles at an enemy over our own land. We’ve never struck first against an enemy on our own soil.”
“If you can
not guarantee your species will not attempt to destroy mine, we must take steps to ensure they cannot.”
“Sorry. I can’t guarantee anything. Not unless you let me talk to my people.” Even then, who knows, but I wasn’t telling it that.
“If humans do anything else foolish, it is good you are here with us.”
“I suppose.” We sat a while, staring out a viewscreen at the forest below and at the small fires of the alien camp.
“Would you like to meet my people?” it said, still staring away from me.
“They’ll kill me the minute they see me, but why not?”
“They will not kill you if they think you are regretful. True, judging by the attack, many unhappy with your presence. Some call for your death, say we should send your body back to the humans as proof of our intent.”
I snorted at this.
The alien blinked at me, then continued, “I disagree with them. Sending your body to the humans will not make a good impression. I will, instead, teach you things about our society, our gestures, and you can make yourself understood. However, if you make yourself disagreeable, I shall have to kill you as an example, and also so I do not look weak to my people.”
I thought for a moment and realized the chief was making the best offer I was going to get. Plus, he was the only one between me and a terrible death.
“Okay,” I said.
“Very good. The first thing we must do is be rid of this clothing. Your uniform signifies you as our enemy, and it frightens our young ones. Besides, you smell foul. We have bathing facilities you will find suitable. Once you are finished, we will feed and outfit you properly. Then we will speak more.”
Once bathed, I found a length of light tan cloth laid out in front of my door. As I bent to pick it up, I noticed two pairs of eyes staring at me from around a corner. I glanced at them and chanced a smile. The child aliens ran away, jabbering in their native language. So much for civility.
Incursion Page 8
