by Susan Laine
“If you leave me to handle this on my own, I’ll follow you to hell just to berate you to a second death.”
Marcus laughed. Sam did lift Marcus’s mood, if not his feet. “Cool. Stand out of the way, chipmunk.”
As he started to run, he heard Sam muttering about that not being his name. Sprinting and vaulting from a toppled pillar turned out to be effortless, and Marcus landed on his feet on a broken section of the indoor balcony. A few small chunks chipped off, but nothing more.
“I’m good,” Marcus hollered back down to Sam. An audible sigh echoed in the room. “I’m gonna check some of the rooms. If none are usable, no need for you to come up. We’ll retrace our steps underground and find shelter there, okay?”
“Fine. But hurry up. Soon I won’t be able to see my feet, let alone jump up there.”
Chuckling, Marcus did his best to work fast. Again Sam had been right. Each of the rooms had a stone bed and sex reliefs on the walls and ceiling. Nothing organic, like mattresses or pillows, had survived, proving the temple had been abandoned centuries ago. The spaces Marcus surveyed had crumbled chunks of wall or ceiling, piles of dried-up leaves, tree roots or branches growing in, and what looked suspiciously like animal droppings.
Marcus cringed. Unless they found a room without crap in it, they wouldn’t dare sleep in any of them.
Finally, after checking out over a dozen rooms, he caught a break. This one had a slab of stone in front of it, acting as a makeshift door. Was that what the lizzies had used back then? Or had they been satisfied with curtains? Could they have been exhibitionists too?
Thankfully the stone slab wasn’t too thick or heavy. Or Marcus’s newfound agility had a connection to physical strength as well. Considering how Sam had warned him, that seemed most unlikely. The other option was that the slab wasn’t actually made of stone but some unknown light metal.
He decided it wasn’t worth thinking about right then and grabbed the sides of the slab and lifted. With some maneuvering he was able to slide it through the gap and into the room behind. The chamber wasn’t exactly homey, but it was kind of cozy, a small square space with a stone bed and a window. But the window was blocked by a tree trunk, so only tiny slivers of detritus had gotten in. Dried plant matter had gathered in the corners but no animal droppings, no dead animals, and no alien skeletons. Plus the ceiling was intact.
“Thank goodness for small miracles,” Marcus muttered. He returned to the edge of the platform and hollered for Sam to throw his backpack up. Sam complied, then backed up to get a running start for his jump. “Be careful,” Marcus called out to his sole companion.
“Y-yeah.” Sam sounded anxious, his voice cracking.
He sprinted through the hall, used a piece of broken pillar as a stepping-stone, and took a high leap—only to fall short. His hands scraped the balcony, but that was all.
Marcus reached for Sam’s arms and grabbed on, preventing him from dropping back down. “Hold on, bae. I’ve got you.”
“Marcus.” Sam’s voice was fraught with fear, but his grip remained strong.
“Not gonna let you fall,” Marcus promised, pulling Sam up by his arms.
Pebbles rained down, clattering onto the stone floor, as Sam kicked them loose from the rough edge of the balcony. Finally he seemed to get a firm foothold, and Marcus could yank him to safety. They tumbled backward onto the balcony, Marcus on his back and Sam on top of him.
Damn, but it felt heavenly to hold Sam flush against him. Marcus practically purred in delight. He really needed to find a way to declare his feelings to Sam, despite their awful circumstances. Holding out as long as he had—liking the guy for years, even when they’d both been too young to contemplate sex—had been torture. Of course, Marcus’s childhood feelings for Sam had been far more innocent. He had treasured the sight and sound of his best friend’s younger brother, admiring his smarts and quirkiness and enjoying his company even if he had to share those moments with Simon.
Marcus hadn’t become friends with Simon because of Sam. They’d met first. His passion for Sam had come later and grown over time. But Sam persisted in acting either skittish or peeved in Marcus’s presence, hindering what could become an epic romance.
“You okay?” Marcus asked, holding on to Sam’s waist.
Sam reddened, glanced away bashfully, and gulped hard. Marcus could feel Sam’s body respond to his, and that raised his spirits—and other body parts. But Sam moved off quickly, as though he were on fire. He looked around, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.
“Wh-where’s the room?”
Marcus stood too, disappointed but not surprised by Sam’s swift denial of what they could mean to each other, but he kept those thoughts to himself. Wrong place, wrong time. But perhaps not all was lost. Marcus hid a grin. Their new temporary accommodations had a single bed. Promising. He gestured toward the room and then followed Sam in.
“Wish we had a broom,” Sam commented as he placed his backpack on the stone bed.
Marcus snorted. “That’s only one thing in a long list of things we don’t have and could use.”
Sam smiled shortly. “True.” Then he regarded their surroundings, biting his bottom lip. “Should we start a fire?”
“There’s plenty of broken branches and dry twigs around for that.” Marcus studied his companion. “Please tell me you’ve got matches or a lighter in your trusty backpack.”
“Duh.” Sam dug into the front pocket of his pack and produced a matchbox. “It’s not full, so take care not to use too many.”
“Get it right the first time. Got it.”
“Wait.” Sam grabbed Marcus’s arm to stop him, then withdrew in a flash. “Uh, what if the smoke or flames attract the animals?”
Outside, the waxing night produced a cacophony of animal noises, ranging from the songs of ozzies to the chirping of other creatures they’d yet to encounter. Crickets or their alien equivalent? Marcus had no clue. In the distance there was even a chorus of croaks resembling that of frogs. Clearly the jungle did indeed teem with unseen life. Awfully loud life.
Marcus frowned as he listened and reconsidered the plan. “Shit. Hadn’t thought of that.” He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “If the night’s as short as the day, perhaps it won’t get too cold. Maybe we shouldn’t risk a fire after all.”
Sam nodded firmly, appearing relieved. He looked down at Marcus’s bulging pockets but immediately looked away, his cheeks turning pink. “Did you find anything to eat?”
Marcus snapped his fingers. With everything else going on, he’d forgotten what he’d collected. Sam’s near fall had given him an adrenaline rush, so he didn’t even feel hunger. First he dragged the stone slab back in front of the doorway, ensuring that nothing as big as giant flowers or predatory felines could get in through the remaining slivers and cracks.
Then he fished the nuts, fruits, and a couple of blue berries he’d gathered from his pockets. “The squizzie I saw cracked the hard shell of the nut and only ate the soft part within. The fruit and the berries? No idea. But from the leftovers on the ground, I think they’re edible.”
“It’s a myth that if an animal eats something in the wild it’s not poisonous,” Sam said wisely. “Birds can eat pokeweed berries, and deer can eat poison ivy.”
Marcus raised a surprised eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t know that.” He stared at the nuts, berries, and fruit on his palm. “Should we try these anyway?”
“There’s no one-size-fits-all rule for nuts. Unless they smell like almonds. That’s bad because they might contain, you know, cyanide.”
Marcus huffed out an admiring chuckle. “You’re like a walking Wikipedia.”
Sam blushed. “With fruit and berries, testing is easier, though there are no hard and fast rules. You could place a few drops of their juice on your skin, corner of your mouth, and finally on your tongue. If there’s no burning, stinging, swelling, redness, nausea, vomiting, etcetera, then… then it should be okay… ish.”
Marcus placed the nut in
his palm, made a fist, and cracked open the shell. A cream-colored soft core became visible, and a delicious fresh fragrance rose in the air. He glanced at Sam, who sported a worried frown.
“Here goes nothing.” Marcus popped the nut in his mouth, chewed carefully, and then swallowed. From the taste, he wouldn’t have been able to tell what grew on an alien moon from what grew on Earth. “Tastes okay. Same as any nut, really.”
“Do you feel, I don’t know, queasy or nauseous? Wanna throw up? Burning, tingling, anything weird? Cramps, diarrhea? Breathing problems, weakness in senses or limbs, blackouts, seizures?” Sam bombarded Marcus with questions, his expression so anxious it was a small miracle he didn’t spontaneously combust.
“Easy there, chipmunk.” Marcus calmed Sam down with his tone and a hand over his shoulder. “I’m fine.” A moment after he’d swallowed, though, a weird tingling sensation coated his tongue and a cooling airy feeling crept down his throat. “Um….”
Sam seemed immediately alarmed. “Um what?”
Marcus tried to put the sensations into words. “I’m salivating like a dog, and my mouth’s sort of… buzzing and tingling, sizzling and boiling, like I ate Pop Rocks. It doesn’t hurt, though. It just feels odd. My tongue’s vibrating, and going a bit numb. And it feels like I’m breathing in frozen air. But… it still doesn’t hurt, and I don’t feel sick.”
Sam frowned, studying him carefully. “That sort of sounds like… buzz buttons.”
“Uh… like what now?”
“Buzz buttons or electric daisies. It’s a flowering herb, used as a medicinal plant. It has a grassy taste and a musty odor, but it’s used in salads because of that mild stinging sensation. It’s a culinary specialty. You just described the sensations to a tee. Never had them myself, but they’re not bad for you. Guess this place has its equivalent of buzz buttons, and you found them. Hardly surprising that even edible plants here have bioelectric properties.”
Marcus chuckled. “It feels like a live wire in my mouth, like electricity. Super weird.” He shrugged. “But not bad. Still not nauseous. That’s good, right?” When Sam nodded, Marcus took the rest of his collection in hand. “Let’s try the fruit next.”
The skin of the oval fruit was smooth and broke apart with ease as Marcus dug in with his thumbs. Inside, purple pulp dripped a little, a sweet scent reaching his nose. With a few reservations, Marcus nonetheless let some drops fall on his forearm. It didn’t sting or burn, and the skin didn’t turn red. He tried some on his lips and then over his tongue, but nothing bad seemed to happen. So he snatched a bit of pulp with his fingers and ate the tiny piece. After a moment of chewing, he gulped down his bite. A few seconds later, the same buzzing sensation as with the nuts emerged past the aftertaste.
“Refreshing. Tastes a bit like papaya, only sweeter. Tingles again. Here. Have a taste.”
He offered Sam a share, and they sat down on the stone bed and munched on their tiny but apparently safe meal. A citrusy flavor preceded the by-then familiar vibe of tingling and sizzling. The effect didn’t last long, though.
“Too bad your measly five protein bars are all we have for, like, a substitute for meat,” Marcus said absentmindedly, frowning. He already missed meat more than he ever meant to admit out loud.
Sam chuckled. “We could always try insects, if there are any.”
Marcus grimaced. “Eww. Pass.”
Sam flicked a tongue at him in between bites. “Haven’t you ever tried Chapul bars?”
“What the hell is that?”
“Crickets. They’re a good source for protein. And from Chapul cricket flour you could make, like, cookies or—”
“Are you fucking serious?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You don’t think there’s, like, cricket legs in there, do you? They’re ground into a flour. You won’t nibble on any pieces of cricket corpses.”
Marcus shuddered, chills running up and down his spine. “Please, stop talking before I hurl what little food I managed to find today.” Sam giggled but left the topic alone after that.
When Marcus made a move for the berries, though, Sam slapped his hand away. The few berries dropped to the floor and rolled into the corner.
“Hey. What gives?”
“Did you pick these from trees or bushes?”
Marcus frowned in bafflement. “Bushes. Why?”
“Because berries from trees tend to be poisonous. Also, if they’re white or yellow—”
“These aren’t,” Marcus cut in, vexed that the rewards of his arduous search had been so callously swept aside. But he also knew they were in an alien environment and couldn’t take too many precautions. “I’ll do the same test as with the fruit.”
Sam nodded. “On Earth, less than ten percent of white and yellow berries are safe to eat. With red berries, the percentage is about fifty, and with blue, purple, and black ones, around ninety percent. But this isn’t our world.”
Marcus accepted Sam’s warning. On his arm, the purple droplets glided down without producing any weird sensations. After he smeared a few drops on the corner of his mouth, though, a mild stinging occurred immediately, and he wiped the daubs away and spat to be on the safe side.
“Stung a little,” he explained to an alarmed-looking Sam. “Best to avoid.” He shoved what few berries were left out through the cracks in the doorway. “You were right. We do need to be careful.”
Sam’s soft smile made Marcus hungry for a different savory dish. Sam could have come off as arrogant considering he was batting a thousand with each theory, guess, and estimate that came out of his mouth. But no, Sam remained shy and grateful whenever Marcus praised him in any way.
Marcus sighed with longing. Being in such close quarters with the object of his desire for the duration of their off-world adventure might just be the death of him.
Chapter 8
“I KNOW these are hardly conventional circumstances but… you wanna talk?” Marcus suggested in a low, empathetic voice that seemed to hone straight in on Sam’s insecurities. They were still in the middle of their repast, so it wasn’t like either of them were trying to sleep yet.
“Not really. I… I don’t need friends to talk to,” Sam replied defensively.
Marcus smiled with a shrug. “That’s fine. I read in some science journal a while back that people without a lot of social relationships, such as friends or boyfriends, actually have above average intelligence. You’re not antisocial; you’re just really smart.”
The compliment only served to confuse Sam more, and the boyfriend reference made him jump inwardly. “I… I never mastered the art of chitchat,” Sam confessed, humiliated by the reluctant admission. He craved normalcy in the maelstrom of their current situation, but he didn’t know how to start a conversation that was purely random and pure fluff. He was a bookworm, and he didn’t have any friends—too shy to approach people and apparently too morose to attract any to him.
Marcus smiled kindly at him. “I don’t believe that for a second. What you need is a little practice. How about… music?”
Sam hated talking about his preferences. No one else ever seemed to have heard of the bands or the genre he liked. Sure, it had become popular in the past ten years or so, but it was an acquired tasted. Still he ventured to ask, “Do you listen to pop music from other countries?”
“Yes. I used to listen to and watch a lot of visual kei, but not that much anymore. I still like it for the varying genres and flashy androgynous styles, but some of their videos have become way too freaky for me. If I wanted to see people eating humans, I’d watch The Walking Dead, which I don’t. I’m so done with zombies.” Marcus’s grin was as usual irreverent and self-confident. Sam stared back in shock. “Why do you look so surprised? Both K-pop and J-pop have been an ongoing trend since the early 2000s. Or are you just stunned it’s me who likes them?”
Sam recalled Marcus mentioning something about comics. Anime comics? K-pop and J-pop hailed from the same region originally after all. He was flummoxed, no
t having even dared to dream his crush might be into the same things he was. The thought boggled the mind. “I… I don’t know. Which do you prefer?”
Marcus shrugged. “They kind of sound a bit similar. I like girl groups, like AKB48 in Japan, and 2NE1 and 4Minute in South Korea. AKB48 is such bubblegum pop, even if the girls are overly sexualized and all look awkwardly young. ‘I Want You’ is their best stuff. 4Minute was disbanded but I loved their attitude as kickass women. ‘Hate’ is one of their best songs, but—”
“But you can hear Skrillex’s influence in there,” Sam cut in, practically on autopilot as he was well acquainted with the same genre of music.
“Yeah, pretty much. CL of 2NE1 is my favorite. She’s got moves and awesome vocals, and she’s got spunk. Their song ‘I Am the Best,’ proves she’s freaking amazing. She alone can rap a song like ‘The Baddest Female’ and be totally believable.”
Sam stared wide-eyed and mouth agape. “You like their videos?”
Marcus chuckled. “Duh. K-pop and J-pop videos are sick. Their quality, production value, and storytelling, it’s all dope. It’s kind of funny, really, to look at them. There’s like a gazillion members in each group, whether male or female—”
Sam got into the topic fast, smiling eagerly. “Yeah, and all the guys have really high-pitched voices—”
“—But they’re awesome dancers, you know. They all pretty much dance something fierce, even with the compulsory rapping of late and the extensive use of ridiculous hip thrusts.”
“—And they’ve got magical superpowers, melodramatic gestures, luxury cars, trendy fashion clothes in every video.”
“Don’t forget all the makeup every guy uses: fabulous eyeliner, glossy lip gloss. And please don’t even get me started on all the ludicrous hairstyles that they change every two minutes.”
Sam worried his bottom lip, ashamed for his secret desire. “I like their hair.”
Marcus grinned, giving Sam a leisurely once-over. “You’d look fantastic with those hairstyles. Hmm, maybe green or blue. Like T.O.P. from Big Bang in ‘Fantastic Baby.’ Yeah, I’d like to see that.”
