She could only hope it’d be enough.
Shay forced her way deeper into the ever-flowing river of alien pedestrians, twisting and turning as best she could to squeeze through the gaps. Her heart pounded, and her breath was ragged, but she didn’t let herself slow. If she stopped, that’d be it. Exhaustion would take hold and ensure she didn’t run anymore.
She couldn’t let that happen. Saving her own skin was a great motivation, but it wasn’t her primary drive—not like it had been several months ago. She needed to keep her baby safe. She refused to birth her child into slavery.
The awkwardness of running through a thick crowd resulted in more bumps and touches than she cared for, but she shielded her belly, sparing it from the impacts. The exasperated words spoken by the aliens she hurried past—sometimes uttered in languages her implanted translator had trouble deciphering—flowed over her like a hot breeze, uncomfortable but ultimately harmless. She didn’t have the breath to spare for snarky retorts.
A series of near-simultaneous cries and shouts rose from the crowd behind her.
Shay’s heart skipped a beat when those cries were answered by a guttural snarl—a snarl that was much too close. How long would this crowd hold back a very large, very determined, very angry azhera?
Not long enough.
More cries erupted from the pedestrians, drawing steadily closer to Shay. For an instant, she pictured a slow-burning trail of gunpowder behind her, just like from an old cartoon, the little spark drawing nearer and nearer. Bad things happened when those sparks reached the character at the end of the line.
Her mind raced as she squeezed between a pair of tall, lanky aliens who were walking side-by-side; the aliens lifted their intertwined hands to glance down at her, opening a path for her to stumble forward.
If only her legs could move as fast as her thoughts.
“Out of the way,” the azhera yelled. He was perhaps as close as ten or fifteen meters, by the sound of it.
There was no question in Shay’s mind—even were she in peak physical condition, she couldn’t outrun him, especially not in the mazelike tunnels and alleyways of the Undercity. Her only hope was to outmaneuver him.
The trams!
She’d used Arthos’s public transportation—which the city provided as a free service—almost every day over the last few weeks. Without a private vehicle at her disposal, the trams were likely her only chance of escaping her pursuer.
Shay turned sharply toward the edge of the street; there was usually more room to maneuver near the shops and vendor stalls along the sides of the road. When she emerged from the thickest part of the crowd, she paused for only an instant—just long enough to lift her gaze and spot a glowing sign ahead. The largest letters on it were written in Universal Speech.
Public Transport.
She sprinted toward it, weaving around meandering shoppers and bystanders.
Shouts and curses from behind her called her attention back. She glanced over her shoulder to see the azhera burst out of the crowd, knocking over at least three pedestrians in the process. He came to an abrupt halt, snapping his head from side to side with his nostrils flaring as though he were scenting the air.
His gaze swung toward Shay and locked with hers. Reflected light from the myriad of signs and holos all around set his eyes aglow. He broke into a run, gaining more speed in his first few strides than any being his size should’ve been able to.
Releasing a sharp breath, Shay turned her face forward, let go of her belly, and pumped her arms, pushing her body as hard as possible. The impact rattled up her legs and through her body each time one of her feet came down. She felt it in every joint, in every bone, right up to her damned teeth.
When she reached the sign, she turned into the wide corridor it pointed toward. Her feet skidded, threatening to slip out from beneath her. Underestimating just how much her belly had disrupted her balance, she overcorrected, only to nearly fall in the opposite direction.
She could see the azhera barreling toward her from the corner of her eye.
Shay stumbled forward, grabbed onto someone’s coat to steady herself, and hurried down the corridor. Alien faces, bodies, and colors zipped by on all sides, their details swallowed in a blur of motion. She could only focus on the place up ahead where the ceiling hit an angle and sloped down—the stairs to the tram station. It was the quickest route, but it was also the place where the foot traffic looked the most congested.
It’s still better than stopping and waiting for an elevator, isn’t it?
Prickles of heat spread across her back and crackled up and down her spine. Even were the grunts and cries from the crowd not giving away the azhera’s approach, Shay could feel him drawing nearer. In a few more seconds, she’d feel his breath on the back of her neck. Then his claws would tear into her skin.
The stairs were only a few meters away now, close enough for her to see how crammed full of people they were on both sides of the center divider.
“Stop, female!” commanded the azhera from directly behind her.
Sure thing, azhera.
Shay didn’t allow herself a moment’s hesitation. When she reached the steps, she slapped her hands atop that sloping central divider—which was perhaps two-thirds of a meter wide at best—and used her momentum to vault onto it. Every muscle in her legs screamed in protest as she swung them up and to her front. She landed atop the divider on her hip.
All the grace of a watermelon, Shay.
The azhera growled. Shay glanced back as he lunged, reaching toward her with his large, unarmored right hand. His fingertips brushed the fabric of her hood. Before he could take hold of the garment, Shay’s momentum—and the power of gravity—carried her out of his reach.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit shiiiit!” she whisper-shouted as she sped down the divider. She wrapped her arms around her belly to shield her unborn child and, somehow, twisted so she was sliding on her ass.
The people on the either side of the stairs, several of whom had limbs hanging over the divider or were leaning on the attached railings, recoiled as she passed. She reached the bottom within a few seconds. For an instant, she was airborne, and it felt like she nearly broke her back getting her legs beneath her and her torso upright.
Shay landed on her feet with a jolt that clacked her teeth together. Her momentum forced her forward, and her torso pitched forward. The only thing that stopped her from falling face first on the floor was the massive body of a tralix—he had to be nearly three meters tall and built of solid muscle. Fortunately, she managed to throw her arms up and let them take the brunt of the impact as she struck the tralix’s backside.
She eased back from him, clutching her belly and groaning at the sharp pain in her pelvis. She sucked in a shaky breath and let it out thickly, willing the discomfort away.
A low, rumbling growl in front of her called her eyes up. She tilted her head back to meet the gaze of the irritated tralix, who had turned to face her.
The tralix leaned toward her. “I should crush you, you—”
“Nice ass,” she said, offering the tralix a wink.
His brow furrowed, and his skin—a mottled blend of purples and blues—darkened as though in a blush. His lips curled in a surprisingly soft smile.
Shay made herself smile back despite her lingering pain and turned to seek her pursuer.
The azhera glared at her from the top of the stairs with eyes narrowed and ears flattened. Fortunately, the space between the crowds on either side of the staircase divider was too narrow for his broad-shouldered frame to fit through, and—
The azhera leapt onto the divider and began a rapid descent.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Shay whined.
She spun away and hurried past the tralix, giving him a slap on the ass as she did so, and worked her way toward the platform, where a multi-car tram was loading and unloading passengers. The azhera roared again, and some of the heat drained from Shay’s face. She didn’t let herself stop; she could do th
is. This was her element. It was no different than any major city she’d been to on Earth, despite the alien population.
She fell into the flow of boarding traffic, hurrying past the slower passengers.
“Terran!” The azhera’s voice carried to her over the din of the crowd, once again right behind her.
She chanced another backward glance to see him pushing through the crowd. He was rapidly gaining on her despite the thick press of bodies.
Shay stumbled through the open doors at the front of a tram car and—ignoring the protests of her aching legs and back—ducked to conceal herself amidst the bigger passengers as she hurried toward the opposite end of the car.
People frowned, glared, and swore as she slipped by, but she didn’t slow. She found herself both thankful for having never been claustrophobic and cursing her overly sensitive nose. The stench of sweating bodies and exotic perfumes and spices was amplified in this tight space.
“I can smell you, terran,” said the azhera from somewhere behind her. “No more running.”
He could smell her? Even amidst all this? How bad did she stink despite her shower this morning?
And does nobody in this city see a problem with a big ass azhera chasing me down right out in public? What a bunch of assholes.
A chiming series of notes sounded overhead—the tram was about to depart. Shay turned her head; she was near one of the tram car’s central doors. Beneath her feet, the tram’s antigrav engines began to hum, creating barely perceptible vibrations.
This was her last chance. If this didn’t work, she was done—she’d be caught.
The double doors began to slide shut.
Shay charged toward them, grabbing onto the people in her path to haul herself forward. The passengers’ protests undoubtedly caught the azhera’s attention. Heart racing, she flattened her arms against her sides and darted through the narrowing doorway.
The doors whispered shut mere centimeters behind her.
Shay’s skin felt like it was ablaze, and she was itchy from head to toe on top of her other discomforts. Breathing heavily, she slowly turned as the tram’s hum intensified.
The azhera forced his way to the doors and met her gaze through the view windows; this time, he was the one caged, not her. Oddly, she felt no satisfaction at that. The tram began its smooth forward motion. The azhera pressed his hands against the doors as though to pry them open, his green eyes, hungry and burning, fixated on her.
Shay’s heart leapt into her throat, and she stepped back. He was powerful and driven; she’d put her money on the azhera over the doors any time. It was frightening, but she still couldn’t deny that thrill, that flare of eagerness. She knew the hunger in his eyes—it said he wanted to devour her in all the right ways.
Right ways? Wrong, wrong, wrong, Shay!
He wanted revenge. He wanted blood. What the hell was wrong with her?
The tram continued forward. Baring his teeth, the azhera slammed a fist against the doors. They shook, briefly warping the reflections on the glass. The vehicle’s motion carried him out of Shay’s view. A few moments later, the last tram car vanished into the tunnel.
Everything inside Shay felt heavy as she stood there with her chest heaving. She wanted nothing more than to allow her body to pool on the ground and give her screaming, trembling muscles a break, but she couldn’t. Not here. The tram station was no safer for her here than it would’ve been on Earth were she to let her guard down.
Though the tram was the quickest route back to her apartment, Shay didn’t wait for the next one, opting to take the long way back. She couldn’t chance running into the azhera again. She didn’t have it in her to make another run for it.
She slowly climbed the stairs out of the tram station, following the crowd of disembarked riders, and pretended her body wasn’t in agony. Keeping to the busier streets and well away from all the dark alleys, Shay wound through the Undercity. Every step shot needling pain through her legs. She’d overdone it today at work, and that chase had pushed Shay beyond her limits.
Neon lights and flashing holograms blared down at her, advertising products, drugs, sex, and food. Her stomach growled for the latter. When was the last time she’d eaten? With no small amount of guilt, she realized it had been on her way to work hours ago. She’d been so focused on handing out those stupid flyers so she wouldn’t get reamed by Yorgaz that she’d skipped her lunch break.
She rubbed her belly in apology. “Sorry, Baby.”
And now she had a murderous azhera to worry about. She’d honestly thought she’d never see him again. What were the odds of it in a city of billions?
“Apparently pretty fucking good,” she grumbled.
Though it was late, and her body was screaming for rest, the savory smell of food lured her toward a food stall. She ordered a noodle-like entrée filled with unknown vegetables. She knew for sure the ‘noodles’ were totally unrelated to human pasta, but she hadn’t allowed herself to ask what any of the food in Arthos actually was. She had a sense that knowing the answer to that question would make her never want to eat again. Best to remain oblivious when it came to alien food.
Besides, she thought as she slurped a ‘noodle’ into her mouth and found a place to sit, it tastes good.
After she’d finished eating and had won the arduous battle of standing back up, she resumed her slow trek back to her apartment. Her feet objected to every step, and she was occasionally struck by sharp pains in her groin. She couldn’t lie to herself—those pains scared the hell out of her.
Her life on Earth had always been almost nomadic, moving from one score to the next, sprinkled with quickies here and there with her then-boyfriend, not realizing the jerk had been two-timing her—or more like five-timing her—for their entire relationship. She’d been so busy during all that, her thoughts so occupied, that she’d forgotten that she’d been overdue for another contraceptive implant.
By the time she’d realized her mistake, it had been too late. She’d already been nearly three months pregnant—which she’d learned from the one doctor she’d been able to see, a shady bastard who didn’t ask questions about why his patients didn’t want to use IDs and paid only in cold, hard cash. A month later, she was kidnapped by alien pirates and promptly sold to Murgen. She hadn’t received any prenatal care after that diagnosis… Not that she would’ve gone back to that doctor, anyway.
Now, Shay was alone on an alien world with no one to turn to. She couldn’t afford any help because she knew the credits she’d taken from the azhera wouldn’t last long—not at the rate the scumbags in this city were sucking her dry. But she was doing to best she could.
“But I got you,” she whispered, settling a hand on her stomach, and was flooded with relief when she felt an answering kick against her palm.
It took Shay an hour and a half after her meal to reach her apartment building. An hour and a half of pain, discouragement, and constantly looking over her shoulder and expecting the azhera to be breathing down the back her neck at any moment. She was exhausted to the very marrow of her bones when she reached the entry doors. She opened her jacket and swept back one side, exposing the blaster at her hip to settle her hand on it.
I didn’t let Murgen beat me, didn’t let the azhera beat me, and I’m sure as hell not letting this city beat me.
Walking with a prominent limp, she entered the rundown building and headed toward the elevator. She pressed the call button and waited. The doors opened a few minutes later and Shay stood back as a group of aliens stepped out, crowding the hallway, their voices raised in conversation. There was a burly, pointed-eared borian and an ethereal, elf-like volturian, but most of them were cren, tall and leanly muscled with long pointed ears, brightly colored skin and hair, and tusks protruding up from their bottom lips. They ignored her—or outright didn’t see her—as they pushed and shoved one another, two of them arguing over what Shay gleaned was a drug one had claimed the rights to.
Without waiting, she entered the el
evator. The doors closed with a grinding, metal on metal sound, and the lift creaked and screeched during its ascent to her floor, its lights flickering gloomily like she was in a horror movie. Every time she rode this elevator, she was half-convinced it would be the last thing she did. Thankfully, her floor was only the second one up, so she didn’t have far to drop if the lift failed.
Exiting the elevator, she moved down the hall toward her room. The odor hanging in the air was an alien mix of bodily fluids, mildew, and unidentifiable smells that triggered her nausea. There were holes and cracks in the walls and stains on the garbage-strewn floor. Sounds carried easily through the thin walls—voices raised in anger or passion, thumping music, people banging on doors, and alien TV shows with the volume turned up way too damned loud. It was dump. But it was also the only place she’d been able to find that didn’t require an ID chip and wouldn’t break her budget.
When she reached her apartment, she shoved her hand into her pocket, pulled out her dinged-up keycard, and waved it in front of the reader on the doorframe. The door whooshed open.
Once she was inside and the door was closed and locked behind her, Shay stumbled toward her pallet and all but fell upon it, unsure of whether she’d be able to get back up. She certainly had no plans to get up any time soon. Her every muscle burned with exertion, and for the first time in a long time, Shay felt incredibly weak, both mentally and physically drained.
Peeling off her jacket, she laid it beside her. Her shirt was damp with sweat. Next came her boots and socks, which she struggled with. She hissed through her teeth once her feet were freed.
“Fuck,” she said, tugging up the hems of her pants. Her feet and ankles had swelled so much that there was no longer any distinction between them—she’d gone full cankle. Harsh red lines marred her flesh, indentations from her socks and boots, and she had a few spots where it looked like blisters were forming.
For a moment, Shay could do nothing but stare at her feet. Pain pulsed through them like they had their own heartbeat.
Untamed Hunger Page 7
