Xell's Entrapment

by Mara Jaye

  Xell’s Entrapment

  Intergalactic Officers

  Mara Jaye

  Copyright © 2019 Stapleton Enterprises

  Cover by Cheeky Covers

  All Rights Reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author or publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Xell

  I’m hot and not in a good way. My body is being pressed flat, immobile, and I don’t know why. None of my bedcovers are so heavy. As I wake up a little more, I remember being trapped in a squarish gray black room with a half dozen of my bar’s patrons. We’d all been trapped, taken, for several days. A little more awake with each passing second, I try to move around. Voices belonging to a couple of men grow louder. I lay still as they approach. After struggling for a deeper breath, I realize what’s happened. The crush from above? The hint of Ralph’s always too heavy cologne tells me where he is. Him, Brett, Joey, Sam, Eddie Mae, and Larry are stacked on and around me. I peer out from between the tangle of arms and legs.

  I smell iron. Thanks to being a sasquatch in the body hair department and my cheaping out on razors, I know this aroma too well. It’s blood, and now I know why I’m not just hot but also sticky. If I reach a little, I can touch Brett’s throat. My bicep cramps but I ignore the pain. He doesn’t have a pulse. I can’t check anyone else right now. I clench my jaw shut even as tears fill my eyes. I need to stay sharp and be ready to run if they bury or cremate us here.

  The two men are still chatting in a series of grunts with snorts thrown in. They never gave us a chance to learn anything on our way here. I’m scared to move but want to see our captors. Carefully, I shift a little while moving Joey’s leg until I can see them. If I lift my chin a little higher, the view is better. Their voices sound as if from the same person, but they’re aliens with faces too flat to be normal. The grayish skin screams not human, also. I suppose they could blend in on Earth a little with a bit of makeup. Maybe. They begin walking behind us and out of my sight.

  Bastards. Why take us only to dump our bodies? They kept us fed with some oversized gummie bricks, opened a sewage trap door for our bathroom needs, and didn’t kill us immediately. Why now, and since I can see the foliage from under Eddie Mae’s arm, why take us here? We’re not on Earth because I know my plants and this is not home. Since we’re tossed here like trash, my bet is they’re leaving. I’m not staying and stowing away might be a problem if I don’t hurry. I pull myself through my friends’ bodies until I’m even with Joey’s feet. More of the landscape is visible now. Still slow, I wriggle free to see more of the ship. It’s huge and not as sleek as I’d expect a spaceship to be. Makes sense, though. We were cargo, not even economy passengers. One side is crumpled as if hit with a huge fist. No wonder we landed here. I can’t help but think we were kept where the damage is. Judging by my aching hip, coupled with the others’ fatal injuries, I wouldn’t be surprised.

  I need to get back on board and make them take me home.

  I finish sliding out from under the others as an odd noise begins. The metallic whine makes the fillings in my teeth ache as I realize they’re powering up their engines. “Oh, hell no!” I holler, pulling my feet free, scrambling to stand. “You’re not leaving me here.” A sharp pain races through my hip and up to my spine. I stumble from the force of it, faceplanting in the mossy soil. After a few breaths, the engines whine louder, and I look at the vessel. A small section rises from the middle like a cylinder. Before I can get back to my feet, the core lifts and shoots off into the sky. They’re gone? Just in an instant? “No,” I whisper.

  Whoever they were, most of their ship is still here. I’m torn between going on board to check if they’re really gone and staying put in case they’re not. I manage to sit upright, looking back at my customers. Just because I couldn’t find a pulse doesn’t mean all of them are dead, right? I can’t be here alone. I struggle to my feet again, trying to ignore the pain, and hobble over to them. Larry’s on top, so I check him first. Tears fill my eyes because yes, he’s really gone. He was one of my first patrons at my bar. I wipe my nose on my sleeve before pulling him over to the side. He’s a wiry guy, thankfully, not as buff as Joey or as heavy set as Ralph. Larry’s eyes are wide open as if still surprised. I close them with a shudder before turning to Eddie Mae. Considering how badly mangled her torso is, there’s no way she could be alive. I touch her neck and sure enough. She’s gone, too, and I begin sobbing. If I hadn’t hired her for the happy hour shift, she might still be on Earth with her family.

  After a minute or two, I shake my head to push away the sorrow for now. Sam could be underneath, struggling to breathe while I’m being a baby. I check Joey and Ralph’s pulses before dragging them apart from each other. They’re much more difficult to pull into lying beside the others properly. Still, I feel like I need to arrange everyone. Brett and Sam were at the bottom and who I had been stacked upon. I didn’t know them as well until our abduction, spending nearly a week in some sort of custody.

  I pull the last two men into lying beside the others. No one but me survived the crash. I ease to the ground, my hip and leg throbbing in protest. There’s a blue sky above me with white wispy clouds. Unsurprising, since I’m breathing seemingly normal air. What’s different is the smallish sun hanging out up there with a moon the size of ours and what looks like another planet. I’m not sure how the three items can be in the same orbit without colliding. Or maybe they do, but only after several billion years.

  I really should have paid more attention to the space part of science class because now my head aches as much as the rest of me does. The plants, though, they’re my forte. I stop saving the best for last and really look at them. There are tree-like structures in the distance but nearby? Huge flowers grow out of even larger flowers. Around them, tall stalks reach up from the reddish-brown dirt, their lower trunks bulging like my average customer’s beer belly. Similar to how humans tend to be, the smaller and probably younger stalks are more slender. Moss carpets the ground in places while smatterings of waist-high plants resembling broom weeds rise up in clusters. They wave a little in the breeze. Oversized leaves resembling grass blades on steroids also grow among them. It smells good here, fresh and natural. I take a deep breath, thankful to be healthy enough to do so.

  Here and there, the vegetation gives way to bare soil. The rich terra cotta color reminds me of places in Africa, Australia, and the southwest United States. Homesickness hits me as my stomach growls. I glance at my former customers and employee. Thanks to our captivity, I know there’s no hidden candy bars in anyone’s pockets. The silence settles in around me. I’d do anything if even one of my friends had survived. No one deserved this. I need to ensure they rest in peace. But what? If we were home in New Mexico, I’d bury them so they coyotes didn’t get them.

  Oh good. I hadn’t thought about how carnivores might live here. Flesh-eating amoebas maybe? Human sized Venus flytraps to start with? Then, there’s always the furry kind of predators. A slig
ht gust of wind lifts the lighter strands of hair from my sweaty face. Feels good but doesn’t keep me from wondering about wild animals. If the planet has them, what kind are they and how big would they be? How timid or ferocious? I shudder at what a sultry place like this could produce. The current humid warmth could lead to dinosaurs like the conditions did on Earth. Unless there are seasons involved and saber-toothed woolly mammoth polar bears roam around in winter while looking for new snacks dropped from the skies. New snacks like me.

  I glanced down at the ground near my hand before scooping up vegetation and dirt. While examining what I hold, I can’t find bug parts like wings or legs. Maybe plant life is all that’s here. I let the soil fall between my fingers and struggle to my feet. The sun is edging closer to the horizon. Time’s wasting, and who knows what sort of night happens around here? I’m not sure how long the moons will lag behind or if they reflect enough light for me to move around safely.

  Another rain-scented breeze whips up, cooling me some. I glance at my sports watch from habit. Its dead face tells me nothing. Yes, I should remove the device, but it’s all I have left. I miss my phone, sure, but not as much as I do my watch’s functionalities. I check the sun again, my sense of direction gone. Does the sun still set in the west? Or is it the west here? If I’m the only human on the planet, could the directions be anything I want to call them? Maybe the sun doesn’t even set here. I have no idea where I am in relation to the equator. This could be similar to Earth’s polar regions with the length of days depending on the seasons.

  My head hurts again. The circular overthinking isn’t getting me anywhere. I stare at my deceased customers and refuse to cry. Each one needs to be buried in a caring way. I can break down after I’m done, and while I doubt the space ship has gardening tools, I want something to dig with besides my hands. The soil I’d held earlier seemed loose enough. Still, I don’t want to add torn up palms to bum hip at the moment. I start limping toward the spacecraft’s jagged opening.

  As I approach, the hole seems bigger from a side angle. Now the gap in the hull is wide enough for one of the alien men to walk upright with room to spare. I step in, my sneakers giving a slight squeak on the metal floor. The room smells bad, like backed-up sewage. My stomach growls again even with the offending smell, and an idea hits me. If they don’t have garden tools here, maybe I could find a plate, food tray, or stirring spoon. Anything to dig with at this point would be good enough. I walk deeper into the larger area and to a half-opened door. The hallway is dark beyond the threshold. I slide in, waiting a few moments to let my eyes adjust.

  The sunlight goes only so far down the hallway. I’m not that brave or desperate. The wreck left debris, so I go back to the larger room. In all of the jagged metal and dirt, a serving platter sized chunk lies half-buried in the soil. I tug at the disk, relieved when the piece is lightweight and only sharp on one side. Tapping the metal makes a hollow ringing tone. Now, I’m curious to hear what the other fragments’ musical notes are.

  But later. After I’ve taken care of my friends. The rain scent has grown stronger. I don’t want to do this in a downpour. Yet, I don’t want to bury them just anywhere. Plate in hand, I walk around the ship in increasingly larger circles until I find the best spot. A couple of the larger flower trees rise up over a thick layer of moss. The distance isn’t too far. I’m strong from bringing in cases of beer from the cooler along with bags of ice when needed. I can do this. I dig the plate into the moss and bring up the first shovelful. Easy, with loose but sticky soil.

  Satisfied, I go back to the group. Might as well start with the biggest person, while I have the energy. I go to Ralph first. He’s puffier than usual, leaving me afraid I’ve waited too long already. Doesn’t matter. I need to get started. After grabbing him under the arms and dragging him to the burial spot, I begin digging his grave. The rhythmic downstroke, scoop, toss motions soothe me a little. Like I’m gardening at home. The repetition gives me too much time to think. Ralph has a family. They’ll never know where he is. I stop, wondering if I should not bury anyone right now. When giving his face a second examination, I realize I won’t have a choice for much longer. Plus, they’re in good company. No one may ever know what happens to me, either.

  I stop digging. I may be here for the rest of my life, however long it is. Could be days, hours, years, or decades, and what do I have? Clothes, shoes, hair tie, and dead smartwatch. That’s all. Early on, we compared pocket contents. Everyone else had car keys. Mine are still on my desk at the bar. Eddie Mae and I were the only ones without wallets, thanks to purses. Ralph’s keychain had a tiny flashlight. I dig through his pockets, saying, “I’m sorry, but I need to borrow your things.”

  Sure enough, he had a flashlight. Encouraged, even if a little grossed out, I keep searching. He also has a pocketknife, three dollars or so in change, a wooden nickel, and an employee ID badge. I turn him to find a can of chewing tobacco and his wallet in his back pockets. I leave the chew but take the wallet. It’s useless as a survival item, but if I ever get home, his family will appreciate me returning it to them.

  Done with the pilfering for now, I ease up to standing. I can give into the pain when the last person is interred. I wince while grabbing Ralph under the arms before realizing he’s wearing an undershirt. With my having only underwear, a shirt, and pants, I’ll need more clothes if there are none on the ship. I don’t want to be forced into being nude or worse, digging up and retrieving these clothes in several weeks or months. Disgusted with my only figuring out a solution after standing up, I kneel back down and begin removing Ralph’s shirt. Everything else is staying on him because he’s bigger than I am and I’m not that desperate. I’ll learn to weave moss or something before I remove Ralph’s underwear.

  With his shirt off and next to his other belongings, I roll Ralph into his grave. I don’t look as I scoop dirt over him. Once the soil is back in place, I tamp it down and go to the others. My hip hurts in a way I never thought possible. Sweat runs down my clammy skin. My eyes water with each step. Doesn’t matter, I tell myself. Sam is next.

  I drag him to his new spot next to Ralph. They liked each other in real life, so this is good. I search his pockets, too. He’s not carrying more than car keys and a wallet. I take the few loose pennies because you never know. If there are aliens here, they might worship copper-plated nickel. He’s not wearing an undershirt so I don’t undress him. Similar to Ralph, I can’t watch as I scoop the dirt over him. Soon, I’m bringing Brett, taking his lighter, pocketknife, wallet, and keychain. The lighter is a win as is the Las Vegas keychain ornament with the thermometer. I don’t know if the temperature is really 105 F here, but I’d believe it. Finally, I find a couple of very worn dice in the bottom of his right-hand pocket. The corners are rounded, and I’ll bet he used them like some people have worry stones. I close my hand around them, vowing to give them back to his family someday.

  Then, it’s Joey’s turn. I could hug him when I find a combo utility thing on his keychain. It’s a compass, a thermometer, a whistle, and bottle opener all in one. Very handy. Before I can get into an inner debate over the polar versus magnetic pole around here, I keep searching his pockets. He’s a fitness kind of guy, sporting trainers despite his casual office attire. I give his shoes a second look. In fact, his feet are around the same size as mine, so I take them and his socks. “Thanks, Joey. I’ll try to keep them nice.”

  Sounds stupid, but I don’t know what else to say. Especially to someone who can’t answer back. Soon, he’s buried, and I go to Larry. Tears fall as I take him to his resting place. He’s lighter than the younger men. I hope Eddie Mae will weigh less than Larry, even. I’ve had to stop several times just to catch my breath. “Sorry,” I say while reaching into his pocket. “You know I’d ask permission if I knew you could give it.” My search results in a massive set of car keys I feel like I’ve pulled from a birth canal. As I hold the large chunk of metal in my hand, I don’t know how he managed to shove them into his pocke
t. “Wow,” I whisper before setting them aside. There wasn’t a hint of room for anything but keys. A couple of them were for older locks made two centuries ago. The guy certainly had a thing for unlocking doors. He also packs light. I find lip balm, his wallet, and yet another handful of change. He’s wearing an undershirt, too, and as much as I’d like to not remove his button-up shirt, I have a feeling I’ll need it later.

  Finally, Eddie Mae. She and Larry are the most difficult. He was my first customer, and she was my first employee. Eddie Mae believed in my dream even when I couldn’t anymore. After I bought the place from Jasper, she helped me turn The Lucky Dog into my vision of a home away from home for my customers. Eddie Mae helped make the place a reality with her hard work and easygoing manner. I drag her to the spot next to Larry and begin digging. I know there’s nothing in her pockets. We have purses for everything. I’m also not taking her clothes. Better to be a nudist than to bury Eddie Mae naked.

  The thought stops me. I’m frozen until my strength dissolves. I begin sobbing. “This is so hard.” I put a hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry,” I gasp out between hyperventilating breaths. A distant rumble rolls through the air, interrupting my sorrow. The wind picks up, cooler now, and I realize the storm is closer. I need to finish the task, pushing my mourning until later. I refocus to dig and place Eddie Mae in her final resting place. The rain begins just as I start shoveling soil over her. I can’t look, intent on finishing and grabbing the belongings I’ve found.

  By the time I’m huddled in the wrecked ship, I’m soaked through. I’m also tempted to suck the water from my shirt. Except, what if this is like the Star Trek episode where people ate the native fruit and died? The water here could be poison and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  I need to go in further, look for food and water even if all there is are gummie bears. I have Ralph’s key light but have no idea how much battery life is left. I tie up everything but the light into a makeshift bag created from Larry’s shirt. I’d change out of my wet clothes, but nothing is dry. I begin to go down the corridor, using the light. Hopefully, the two aliens are the only ones on board the entire ship. I’m not eager to find another body, no matter whose. All of the doors are open. Nice, considering they have the tech to make them automatic like my car’s power windows. I can see into a living quarters and go in. The place is a wreck but the crash didn’t cause this chaos, bad housekeeping did. Still, there are blankets, a pillow, dirty dishes, and clothes everywhere.