Alien

by Laurann Dohner

  Kal straddled the officer. They struggled for the remaining weapon in the officer’s hand. The Magnum. Though he had the officer in weight and size, the officer didn’t quit. One hand on the Magnum, the officer squeezed off a round, which brightened the night sky with a tremendous red ball-shaped blaze. Kal repeatedly pounded the officer’s hand against a rock until the Magnum flung into the woods.

  The Paoni’s other hand produced a knife and stabbed him. Severe heat sizzled up the inside of his thigh and sent a river of fire into his bloodstream, letting him know the blade was drugged. The blade twisted. Kal bit back the pain, thrived on it, and redirected it into strength. He squeezed the officer’s wrist until he forced the knife’s release. Though it wasn’t easy, he pinned the Paoni’s forearms beneath his knees. The officer didn’t stop.

  For a smaller person, the inner strength amazed Kal. Though his opponent’s arms were secured beneath Kal’s knees, the Paoni used this as leverage and attempted to head-butt Kal. Though the height difference between them didn’t allow head-to-head contact the solid blow to the middle of his chest knocked the wind out of Kal. On reflex, he shoved the officer with enough force to cause the back of his helmet to hit the ground hard. His head bounced once then all motion stilled. Kal quickly leaned forward, shifting some of his massive weight into his arms as he held down the officer by the shoulders. Though he tried to see through the shield, its dark tint allowed no glimpse of the officer inside the helmet.

  A lack of response from the Paoni had Kal believing he’d knocked out the officer. Kal searched for the one aspect of the battle suit that wasn’t officer-specific. An emergency-release trigger had been installed in case an officer went down and needed to be removed from his suit. He worked his fingers underneath the edge of the helmet. A subtle movement of the hips beneath him gave a clue he was wrong about the officer’s condition. Before he found the release trigger, the officer’s boot tip made contact between his shoulder blades.

  A sharp object ejected from the boot and penetrated his flesh. Damn. A Pulsar dart. Short bursts of energy pulsated from the point. It thrived on the victim’s heartbeat. With the increase of the pulse rate, the energy bursts also increased until the heart short-circuited and quit beating. Kal took slow deep breaths and concentrated, fighting his system’s natural need to panic and pump blood faster. Though the officer bucked beneath him, Kal managed to stay seated, held down the Paoni, and fought to remain in control. One shaky finger tripped the release trigger of the helmet. A slight gap popped between the helmet and the battle suit.

  Kal worked his fingers into the opening, pried it wider, wrapped a meaty hand on the officer’s neck and clasped tight. It didn’t feel thick or solid like that of a muscled warrior. Instead, an unusual softness met his palm, which surprised him. The officer’s rapid pulse spoke volumes in fear. Or anger, Kal noted as the Paoni wiggled and squirmed and even attempted to implant another Pulsar dart into his back. But Kal was ready for this one and shifted. The second boot missed. The dart shot across his shoulder and lodged in a tree.

  Seconds seemed like minutes before the officer stilled. Kal couldn’t be certain if he’d killed the Paoni or simply suffocated him until he passed out. Either way it didn’t matter. The officer was incapacitated—for the moment. Inwardly, Kal battled the effects of the drug from the knife and the bursts of energy from the dart. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d be in the same condition as the Paoni—out cold, or dead. From the way his body hurt, death would be a relief right about now.

  He assumed from the throbbing headache, the drug was Kettlemine. A poison to most, but not to him. Threatened with it too many times in his youth, he had ingested small doses of it over a period of years, until he had developed immunity to it. Now, it simply made him suffer as if he had a severe hangover. He shook his head slightly. The short bursts from the Pulsar weren’t helping his situation, but he knew he couldn’t reach it.

  He needed help. Dio was still locked in the port-o-pod. At least it wasn’t activated for takeoff. Kal gritted his teeth and sucked up the pain as he moved off the Paoni. For a split second, his vision blurred as intense pulses shot through his chest. Kal grappled for the strength to remain conscious. Breathe in. Breathe out. Sweat beaded his brow and moistened his upper lip. The Pulsar dart vibrated as he struggled to stay calm.

  A glance at the Aludra and he knew she’d be of no help. Her lips were blue and her skin paled. Guess the second hit of the KO-2 was more than she could handle. He needed Dio or he was going to die. His heart pounded with every movement, but he had no choice. He had to search the Paoni.

  If memory served him, the controls for the port-o-pod was usually located in the upper left section of the battle suit. He lifted the outer edge of the breastplate. Heavy-handed, he felt for the button that would release Dio. A series of buttons lay hidden beneath a protective flap on the left side of the chest. His thick fingers didn’t fit in the slender opening so he ripped off the flap that covered the miniature control panel and pressed the correct button.

  The port-o-pod spat Dio out then shrank to the size of a marble. Dio gasped for air as he scrambled on hands and knees to Kal. Without being told what needed to be done, Dio caught the Paoni’s glove Kal tossed at him. He didn’t waste time slipping it on. Instead, he wrapped it around the dart and tugged. The instant it was out, Kal relaxed and took a cleansing breath.

  “We’ve got to get that knife out,” Dio stated the obvious as he examined Kal’s thigh.

  “Don’t remove it,” Kal hissed. “It’ll bleed worse. We have to tie a tourniquet above it and wrap it tight before you pull it.”

  With Dio’s help, Kal ripped the leg of his jumpsuit away from the wound. They tore the tattered material into strips. Kal held a long strip tight around his upper thigh to stanch the circulation, while Dio jerked the knife free. Dio wrapped multiple layers of the torn material around his thigh, covering the cut with a makeshift pressure bandage. Slowly, Kal released the tourniquet, while keeping an eye on the Paoni. Something about that one nagged his conscience and whispered danger.

  “That’ll have to do.” Kal groaned. “We’ve got to get out of here. No telling how many Paoni may be headed this way.”

  Dio looked at the Aludra woman. “Is she dead?”

  Kal nodded and sadness filled the young man’s eyes. When Dio crawled over to her, Kal shook his head. The kid didn’t learn. A woman got him into this mess in the first place. A hot blob of red lava landed beside him, letting him know it was definitely time to move. The gap widened. Lava bubbled dangerously close to the rim. Globs of it shot into the air and landed fiery balls of mass destruction around them.

  “Shove her into the pit.” Kal struggled to stand. Dio’s surprised look of disgust struck a nerve. They didn’t have time for sentiment, not if they wanted to survive. “If you don’t and the Adamu—humans—find her, they’ll dissect her remains in the name of science. Do you want that?”

  For a second, he thought Dio wouldn’t comply. He read the indecision in the young man’s face and understood. He’d been there once. Love was a deadly distraction as far as he was concerned. Women weren’t to be trusted. But it was a lesson to be learned not taught. He knew that all too well. No matter what he said, he knew Dio wouldn’t listen. Not when the heart ruled the mind.

  With a swipe of the back of his hand across his eyes, Dio leaned, kissed the dead woman’s cheek then rolled her into the growing pit. She instantly disintegrated in the intense heat.

  “That’s going to be us if we don’t move.” Kal leaned against a tree. The pit popped a pebble-sized glob of molten lava onto Dio’s arm and he screamed in pain, hurriedly brushing it off as he scrambled backward.

  A sensation of pure dread washed over Kal. A presence loomed in the distance, hidden in the night skies. He felt it in the marrow of his bones. Something deadly came for them. Every instinct kicked into high gear and focused on the synergy he sensed in the air. To the unskilled, this would’ve been missed or perceive
d as the wind increasing, but Kal knew differently. Paoni forces were on the move and headed this way.

  The officer at his feet groaned. Though it shot severe pain from his thigh to the center of his core, Kal stooped and grabbed the Paoni. Through clenched teeth, he growled at Dio, “Help me. We might need to use him as leverage if we’re caught.”

  “But he’s a Paoni,” Dio pleaded. “Kidnapping. Are you trying to get us killed?”

  Kal fisted the front of Dio’s ratty jumpsuit and spat, “No. I’m trying to save your life. Feel that wind. That’s not Mother Nature giving you a kiss. It’s a Paoni task force and they’re closing in fast. Now choose. Death by lava or Paoni, or a chance at freedom?”

  Dio didn’t hesitate. He helped lift the unconscious officer. To disperse the weight evenly, they slung the officer across the back of Kal’s neck and shoulders so the officer’s legs hung down his right arm and the arms and head were to his left. Since the helmet was no longer attached to the suit, it slid off and bounced on the ground. Kal froze. This was a first for him. A woman. He had fought a woman. A female lay unconscious across his shoulders and worse, he was the reason behind her injuries.

  Fair complexion, long dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks but did not open. A braid of thick golden hair hung to about his waist. Damn, this wasn’t right. Emotions threatened to emerge from the lock box within his soul. Kal flexed and tightened every muscle in his abdomen and chest. This wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t regret the fact he’d beaten a woman. If he hadn’t, he, Dio, or both would be dead right now.

  Since when had the Kiengir allowed women into the Paoni ranks? Dio didn’t look surprised at the gender of the Paoni. Had Kal been incarcerated so long that the universe had changed so much? He didn’t have time to think it through. The pit sputtered and spat, sending spitballs of lava raining down. When they got to safety, he had a growing list of questions for that boy.

  “You sure you can do this?” Dio questioned as he dodged the flying lumps of lava, while scrambling to collect the Magnum, which he grabbed and tucked into the large pocket on the leg of his jumpsuit.

  “Don’t have a choice.” Kal grimaced as he adjusted the Paoni’s weight. “Grab that helmet. It should help us find the source of transport the Paoni used to get here.”

  “How?”

  Kal nodded in the direction he first saw the Paoni. “That way,” he gasped. “The helmet has a homing device that’ll lead a lost officer back to safety. Out here, that’d have to be his…err her…transport. Keep the helmet close to her head so the neuro-transmitter still reads her brainwaves or else it’ll shut down. Hold it at an angle where you can see the inside of the screen and follow the blip. Now, go.”

  Dio grabbed the helmet, flipped it over, and held it beside the woman’s head. As soon as he saw the inner screen, he pointed the way. Side by side, they ran. Kal ignored the bone-shattering pain from his leg with every connection of his foot to the ground. All he could pray for was that the bandage held and he didn’t bleed to death before they reached the transport.

  About a quarter mile from the pit, they located the Paoni’s ride. Kal didn’t recognize the four-wheeled vehicle, but it seemed to thrill Dio.

  “Sweet.” The younger man gave a low whistle. He approached the rear of the vehicle and lifted the hatch. “Great, it’s not locked. Put her in here while I look for the keys.” He tossed the helmet inside and ran to the driver’s side of the vehicle.

  This was the most excited he’d ever seen Dio. Even when the Aludra woman made her advances on him, he wasn’t this enthusiastic. Kal deposited the Paoni with a thud into the rear of the machine. He searched the compartment and found odd-looking cables with clamps on the ends. This would have to do. Quick as possible, he tightly tied her hands and feet together behind her back.

  For a moment he hesitated, holding her exposed hand in his. Long, lean fingers, soft skin and well-manicured nails, not polished, just neat and clean, made him hunger for something he could not have. He growled between clenched teeth as he dropped her hand.

  Never again would he fall for that trap. Beneath him, the vehicle sputtered to life, jarring him from his momentary lapse into idiocy.

  “The keys were under the mat,” Dio shouted excitedly. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Kal took one last look at the woman. Sensations he thought long dead barreled through him. Need. Desire. Lust. He hated himself for it. Slamming the hatch, he hurried to the passenger side and climbed in the door Dio had reached across and opened for him. The boy was grinning from ear to ear.

  “They don’t make ’em like this anymore. Hold on, I’ll drive.”

  The engine gunned, the wheels spun as Dio shifted gears and bulleted the vehicle forward. If Kal hadn’t grabbed the strap above the door with one hand and the arm of the seat with the other, he would have hit the dashboard and tattooed Bronco 4x4 into his forehead. He would have yelled at Dio if it didn’t look as if the kid was having so much fun.

  Chapter Two

  Shia woke but kept silent. Slowly, she lifted her head and assessed the situation. The front of her neck felt bruised, which coincided with the fact her airway had been clamped by a meaty fist until she passed out. That fact alone made her lip curl in anger. How had he known about the emergency release button under the edge of the helmet? And who the hell was he? She’d hit him with some of the most deadly weapons in her arsenal and he still managed to overpower her.

  The strain on her tender neck muscles made her lower her head. It hurt to swallow. She tried to reposition but couldn’t with both hands bound behind her back. When she tugged, it became apparent the same thing that tied her hands was also connected to her ankles. No wonder she felt like one of those calves she’d seen roped and tied at the rodeo. Pain cut into her wrists when she attempted to unknot the cord. In the dark, she couldn’t be sure what exactly held her tight. Her best guess, the jumper cables were used as rope to hold her in place. Her fingers brushed a clamp, letting her know her summation was correct.

  Though she couldn’t see her captors, she heard them. A pair of males sat in the front seat. Shia speculated the younger escapee drove. She doubted the big man maintained the capabilities to operate the vehicle after suffering a Kettlemine-coated knife wound and a Pulsar dart she knew she’d implanted between his shoulder blades. How he survived either amazed her.

  Maybe he was some sort of Kiengir experiment gone awry that they had to incapacitate in a prison because they couldn’t kill it. She’d heard rumors more than once concerning different Kiengir projects. The words of her favorite cadet school instructor, Master Ur Atradies, whispered through her head. Every planet in the universe is their test lab and the people upon them merely subjects in a Petri dish. He had a theory about everything, especially the Kiengir. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Thinking on the big man’s size, that was one hell of a large dish.

  Listening carefully, she realized they somehow managed to locate her Bronco. Nothing sounded like the engine of her most prized possession. She’d spent hours keeping it honed to perfection. She took comfort in knowing she was trapped within something familiar. If they only knew the many surprises she’d built into this special vehicle.

  They hit a major bump and caught air. A masculine “yee-haw” cut the night as they landed hard. Shia bounced around the cargo space. She heard his pain-filled groan, so low if she weren’t attuned to the sounds within the Bronco, she would have missed it. Serves you right for stealing my ride, shot through her thoughts seconds before they hit another bump at full speed. Damn, this isn’t any way to treat my baby. This time she bounced so hard she lifted several inches off the floor. With her arms and legs stretched backward, her left shoulder and hip took the blunt of the forceful landing. The side of her head hit hard enough she saw stars behind her closed lids. To make matters worse, her helmet broadsided her forehead, nearly busting her nose. Shia bit back the pain and struggled to keep a clear head. There was no need for her captors t
o know she was awake. Not yet.

  When her helmet nearly collided with her head again, she managed to avoid the blow and even pinned it between the side of her head and the floor. If she could somehow slide it back on, the neurological connection with her battle suit would reengage. Carefully, she wiggled her chin, trying to nudge the helmet opening into a better position without losing the precarious hold she had on it.

  Brakes squealed and locked up as they stopped suddenly. She slid headfirst into the rear panel of the backseat. The helmet went flying and she was lucky she didn’t break her neck. Jaw tight and teeth grinding, she swore she’d kill both of them the moment her hands were free. She’d neuter the Sirian for driving her ride with such disrespect. And the big man—she had plans for his organs. Special delivery straight to the Kiengir.

  “Told you I bet she’d stop on a dime.” The voice she heard had to be that of the Sirian due to its youthful tone.

  “Dio, stopping isn’t what we should be doing right now.” This voice she definitely knew belonged to the big man. A hint of pain laced his tautly spoken words. She still couldn’t believe he remained conscious or that he was even alive, for that matter.

  “I know, but I needed to stop in order to boot up the GPS that’s been installed in the dashboard of this baby. Most of these have a default system that won’t let you program them while in drive.” A few seconds passed and she knew he got what he wanted.

  “GPS? That was ancient technology even before…” The big man grumbled, but didn’t finish his sentence. Before what? She wanted to know and strained to hear in case he chose to continue.

  “To the Adamu, this is high tech,” the Sirian replied, causing her to roll her eyes even though he was right.