“It’s okay,” I whisper and clutch my crossbow. “I’ll turn my back.”
“Where are the fucking bushes when you need one?” she seethes. “Okay, I see one. I’ll be right back.” She tiptoes into the jungle.
“No, stay here!” I hiss. Leaving the path and going as much as a yard into the misty woods seems highly inadvisable right now.
Theres a soft rustle, and Eleanor disappears from sight between the plants and trees. She was always a stubborn one.
Okay. We’re supposedly surrounded by a squad of warriors, so she’s probably still safe. But I don’t like the cackling. Not one bit.
I listen again. Now it’s gone.
I scratch my chin. Is that a good sign or a bad sign?
Brank’ox comes striding, fast. “Where is the other one?”
I point. “She had to… you know, call of nature.”
He stares hard into the woods, and it’s a miracle the trees don’t wither or catch fire.
A deep, very male sigh escapes him. “Very well. If you have a similar need, this is the time.”
I quickly take stock of the situation.
“Okay. Will you turn around, please?”
He turns his immense back to me, and I scurry behind a huge tree trunk on the other side of the path from where Eleanor went.
The relief is nice, and I’m just starting to look for suitable leaves when I hear some commotion from the path. There’s rustling and a subdued exclamation.
I duck my head down and reach for the crossbow I’ve left on the ground. It’s still loaded, and the string is tense. I forgot to unload it back in the village.
I think I hear metallic clangs in the distance, as from cavemen fighting with swords.
Okay, never mind the leaves.
I stay down and half crawl to the tree trunk close to the path.
No, wait. That’s not the path.
Wrong tree.
I localize the right one and crawl over to it.
No path.
That was also the wrong tree.
Shit.
Which one was it?
Okay, so the thing to do now is to not panic. Just find the right tree, go over to it, find the path and Eleanor and Brank’ox.
I just have to avoid going further into the jungle and away from the guys.
Why must there be so many trees in this damn rainforest?
The mist seems much thicker now, as if a cloud has come drifting. If it gets much thicker, I’ll never find my way.
Yeah, no. I have no time for this.
“Brank’ox!” I hiss. “Where are you?”
“Here,” a voice says from a completely unexpected direction. It is a deep voice, like Brank’ox’s.
I crawl slowly in that direction.
There’s no path.
“Brank’ox?”
“Here!”
Yeah, that came from behind me. What the hell is wrong with this jungle?
“Eleanor?”
Nothing.
Everything is wet and dark and foggy. Huge drops fall on my head and down my neck, but now they manage to feel cold.
Fuck. Of all the times to get lost in the jungle...
“Brank’ox, come and get me, please.” I dare raise my voice above a hiss. He’ll chew me out, I’m sure, but now I feel panic tugging at the edge of my mind and I would be pretty okay with being scolded if it meant being safe again.
“Here,” says a deep voice.
“Come,” the same voice says from a different direction.
There’s a rustle from off to the side, and I raise my head. In the mist, I can’t see what it is. But there’s movement.
“Here,” says a voice from right behind me.
I gasp and whirl around so fast I fall on my butt.
But there is nobody there.
“Shit shit shit shit…” I clutch my crossbow, squatting down among strange bushes and trees that seem more alien than ever before.
There are voices everywhere now, coming out of the mist.
“Here!”
“Come!”
“Here!”
“Please!”
That last one is like somebody whispering right into my ear, but when my head whips around there’s only mist and darkness.
What the hell is happening?
“Brank’ox!” I yell as loudly as I can. “Help me!”
My voice sounds dull and distant, even to my own ears. As if it wouldn’t carry more than a couple of feet through the mist.
It’s suddenly very quiet.
And that mist is really very thick now.
I clutch the crossbow hard in one hand and get to my feet.
“Brank’ox! It’s Mia! Come get me!”
That was full volume.
And this time there’s a reply. “Mia! Come here!”
It’s a distant call. Did I really walk that far from the path?
“Mia,” a thin voice says into my ear, and I whirl around.
Empty air and mist.
Tears of panic burn in my eyes.
My skin crawls as something brushes past my back.
I can’t take it anymore and start running. The direction doesn’t matter much. I just have to get away!
3
- Kyandros -
I enjoy toying with her.
She reacts with such immediacy, such rawness. She is so alive!
I need this sport after years of exhausting travel through the void, with nothing but the memories of old hunts and old murder to entertain me.
And the hope of this new world the Inferiors led us to.
A hope that was squashed almost right away. There are no cities here, no society. No great triumphs to be had. No masses to terrorize, no huge structures to casually raze.
And worst of all: no gold.
At least not in any quantity to be noticed.
How can we build hoards? How can we change back to dragon form and go elsewhere?
It is a source of great despair. There is nothing here. The Inferiors lured us here and may have won the final triumph. Yes, we destroyed their own planet and every refuge they sought since.
We all thought they would be going to some secret place, a planet as rich as the one where King Garunzigur finally beat them and where he claimed the largest hoard any dragon has seen.
But then it turned out that they tricked us. They were going to an empty place. They were going here.
The female now runs, and I chuckle at the sight. She runs in the direction I decided to lure her, away from her friends, all those large men that have an unpleasant feel about them, an air of being slayers.
She is not a slayer. But then, females never are.
It is somewhat strange to me that men as large as the ones I have seen here have females as small as this one. Small and round, where the males are angular and big.
But perhaps that is normal among lesser species. I never look too closely at them and their ways. Any lesser being I meet is soon dead, anyway.
I stroll through the mist, following the female as she crashes through the undergrowth in obvious panic. If I were in my dragon form, I would be able to drive her to the brink of insanity with terror. In my human form, my abilities are more limited. In a way, that makes this little parody of a hunt even better.
This strange planet helps me now. The mist and the darkness – perfect conditions for instilling fear in a lesser sentient.
Ah, look at her run. How abrupt her movements, how rapid her breath! How careless the path she takes, running through when running past would spare her skin from the twigs and branches and thorns.
I admire the fluid movements of her chest and of her ample behind. How shamelessly female she is! How delightful, how open!
The scent of her terror sweetens the air and puts me in mind of the joy only a female can provide.
I tap my lips as I stroll, easily keeping up with her. Perhaps, this sport can be made to have a... prize?
I am alone, none of my peers w
ould see me if I were to take some special pleasure in this one. She is a female. And I have never done it before, not with a lesser sentient. Not with an Inferior, certainly. They always had a tainted feel to them.
This one… not so much. She feels fresh, young, full of life and hope and spirit. Her long hair streams behind her as she runs.
It would be possible. I am in my human form.
There is even a chance she might own some kind of trinket for my hoard. Not likely on a planet as primitive as this. But possible. Even something made with a little care would help. It would not be enough, of course. Not nearly enough of a hoard to Change to dragon form and even escape this empty planet. A start, only. A pleasant start.
The female trips over a branch, falling headlong to the ground.
I chuckle into her ear, moving so fast she can’t see me when I withdraw.
She sobs and runs on, limping now.
Aaah, that scent… sheer female.
My crotch swells.
I will hunt her for as long as I can bother. Then I’ll show myself, toy with her a little more, and maybe even have my way with her. Then, if she survives that, maybe keep her alive for a little while. As long as there is some joy in it.
And then…
Well, murder has its attraction, too. It’s a short ecstasy, but so pure.
The life is there.
Then it is not.
My crotch swells more.
4
- Mia -
There are voices everywhere, and I have no idea where I’m running to. I’m just running from, but somehow never getting away.
My breath is ragged in my throat. I’m exhausted and sore. Every time I fall or slow down, there is a voice right by my ear and it scares me out of my mind, spurring me to run on into the mist.
It has to be a dragon. Somehow. Troga would never do these things, but the panic has the same flavor as back then. Hopelessness, terror, death.
Well, Caroline took care of Troga while the rest of us basically just watched.
The memory strengthens me and washes the worst of the panic away.
If she did that, then I suppose I can try to take care of this invisible one.
I aim for a large tree and run into the tree trunk, embracing it to slow me down. At least my back is covered now.
I raise the crossbow to my shoulder, checking that it’s loaded.
I aim into the mist. “Come at me, snake.”
Dark shadows move past me, too far away for me to see what they are. Or if they’re real at all.
My heartbeat is thunder in my ears. My breath is fast and shallow.
“Are you going to play me a tune?”
The amused voice is right by my ear, and I whirl around.
Nothing.
Then I turn back and my heart stops beating.
He’s big. Easily the size of any caveman in the village.
And he is silver all over, except the face, which is less metallic.
There is a hint of scales and two yellow, twinkling eyes with star-shaped pupils.
And a smile as friendly as any I’ve ever seen. It creeps me the hell out.
“Stay where you are,” I say, my voice shaking with tension.
I’m not even sure which language he spoke. English or cavemanese.
Only now do I realize that he’s totally naked.
Not even a pair of pants to hide that— oh wow.
I swallow in a dry throat. Yeah, that thing would be classified as an assault weapon on any decent planet.
He keeps sauntering towards me, moving casually and without a care in the world.
His beauty is mesmerizing.
I have an urge to lower the crossbow and just get him as close to me as I can. The need to be in the same place as him fills me with a longing so hard it aches. Because this might be the only chance I get to be in the presence of this… divinity.
Um. What?
No.
No no no. Troga would do this, too, hypnotize you with sheer grace and beauty.
The only way to get out of it is to close one eye for a little while. It breaks the spell.
Ah, that helps. He’s just an alien. A very perfect alien. A very dangerous one.
I’m aiming right at where his heart should be.
“Where is your music, little female?” His voice is deep and smooth, with a slight rasp and a hint of amusement.
I raise the crossbow to aim at his painfully perfect face. “I said stop right there!”
His eyes twinkle with every color of the rainbow, like distant stars on a clear night. “Is Mia the queen of the forest? Can I not walk in it if I want?”
My name has never sounded so good. Or so terrible.
The crossbow is slippery in my sweaty hands. “You should want to walk somewhere else.”
He smiles, showing rows of teeth so strong and white they seem to illuminate the mist. “Perhaps, it is you who should be somewhere else.”
I take one stumbling step back. He’s getting altogether too close for comfort. “Oh, it absolutely is.”
He chuckles and makes it sound like silver bells at Christmas. “Touché.”
He’s close enough to tower over me, and I raise my aim towards his face.
“Turn around and leave me alone.” As they say, speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.
He’s very close. Even in this darkness, I can count every strand of golden hair on his head.
A new panic is tugging at me.
“Play a tune on your instrument. Then I will play a tune on you.” His smile is suddenly gone and the whole man is just a bundle of danger.
And still this whole thing feels unreal, like in a dream, a nightmare.
He’s not a man, of course. He’s a dragon, with shimmering scales under that skin and a presence that makes everything around him fade away to insignificance.
The hard tree trunk hits my back. I can’t retreat any further.
He stops, a little too close for comfort. Then he calmly reaches out and picks something from a bush. A yellow flower.
He holds it out to me. “Do you find this beautiful, Mia, Queen of the Forest?”
“Go away,” I plead, acid tears in the corner of my eyes. “You scare me.”
He smiles again. “I will put it behind your ear. You need a splash of color.”
He reaches one large hand out towards me.
In a flash, I see that there are no nails on his fingers.
But there are claws, as pointy as needles.
I pull the wooden trigger.
The crossbow jumps in my hands and gives a metallic twang.
“What a strange music,” the dragon says softly. “Is it—”
He takes a step back.
A thin stream of golden liquid is running down his face from above his left eye.
He touches a finger to it and looks at it.
He looks at me with a surprised frown on his supernaturally handsome face.
Then his knees buckle and he drops to the ground like an empty sack.
For a good few heartbeats I just freeze up.
The dragon is on the ground, and he looks dead.
Because I shot him.
The bolt itself is gone. It hit him, then bounced off, thankfully not sticking in his head. But it hurt him good. I hope it didn’t fracture his skull.
I can’t even claim self-defense. He had shown no open hostility towards me. And shooting someone because of who they are and what they look like – yeah, that’s not who I ever wanted to be.
Sure, he scared me. But now that he’s on the ground, not moving, the danger has evaporated and I can see that I overreacted. Probably.
Fuck.
There’s an unconscious dragon on the ground. He might even be dead. What the hell do I do?
“Brank’ox!” I yell as loudly as I can. “Heeelp!”
Aren’t there supposed to be twenty fucking warriors somewhere here? They must know they’ve lost me by now. Why aren’t they searching
?
“Brank’oooox! Eleanooooor!”
The dragon-slash-man doesn’t move.
I can’t just leave him here.
I close my eyes briefly, intensely wishing that when I open them again, he’s gone.
But no. There he is, on the ground with one leg curled under the other like I’ve seen on infinite crime shows.
“Brank’oooooox!”
Not a sound. The woods are as quiet as ever, except for the white noise from the rain hitting the treetops above.
I don’t even know which way the path is.
On weak knees I kneel down by the dragon. He’s warm, and he must be wearing some kind of perfume. Nobody has a natural smell as good as this.
He has sharp, knife-like spikes coming out of his back, along the spine. Just like a full dragon.
I gingerly put my ear close to his mouth. He’s breathing, fast and shallow.
And he’s trembling, very slightly.
Okay, he’s alive.
I stand back up. I’m not entirely sure that’s good news. I definitely can’t leave an unconscious guy alone in the jungle.
“Brank’oooooox! It’s Miaaaaaaa!”
Nothing except hard, cold rain.
What do I do? Should I build a hut around him? Put him on a stretcher? Drag him along through the jungle? But he has to weigh four hundred pounds.
I step away from the tree to see where I am.
And I see it immediately. There’s a hill fifty yards away. On this side, it has a sheer rock face that leans out, forming a natural roof. It could be dry under there. I should get him out of the rain, at least. That shiver might be from cold. This rain is not as warm as it usually is.
I look up at the sky. It’s almost as black as night, although it has to be morning still. Noon at most.
And it is getting noticeably colder.
I walk fast over to the rocky overhang. Halfway there, I realize it’s a cave. Not a deep one or even a big one, but it does widen a little just inside the opening.
With fingers that tremble from recent panic and increasing cold, I load the crossbow again. On this planet, caves are usually occupied. And not always by men.
I approach the cave slowly, weapon ready.
Yep, there have been creatures here. This is an old nest, and in one corner there’s a heap of old eggshells. From eggs the size of basketballs. An old dinosaur nest.
Caveman Alien’s Enemy Page 3