by Sabrina Kade
Damn. If these things can swim, I’m genuinely and royally fucked.
Relief washes over as the creatures come to the crest and shriek angrily.
They can’t get into the water. They can’t get into the water!
I gasp, relieved to take my time and suck in a huge mouthful of air. My legs burn. My chest hurts. Even my teeth hurt from running while gritting them in the cold air, but none of it matters now. I’m safe. I’m freaking safe.
“Yes!” I slam my fist on the surface of the water. “I’m faster than you jerks! Did you see? You got outrun by a human! Hells yes!” I splash around like a hysterical idiot, but I don’t care how I look. I won! They can’t get me now. And though I should be thinking about other animals that could get me, including ones possibly lurking in this muddy pool, I’m too charged up on adrenaline. My temporary victory is the only thing that matters now.
“You can’t get me, assholes!” I scream before calming myself down. I need to take stock of what I’m up against because, despite my current victory, I can’t stand in a muddy pool all night.
There are about ten fuzzy spiders, which is funny considering when I was running, it felt like an entire army was after me. I’m still right about my assessment of calling them fuzzy spiders because under the harsh pink moonlights, that’s precisely how they look. It seems as though they have eight legs like a spider, but two of them are like arms, which they wave like angry old men while making that terrible shrieking sound. Looking at first, I thought they had one large eye at the center of the front of their round body, but upon closer looking, it’s a cluster of at least ten smaller eyes. Ten small, red, beady eyes. Eww. I suck in a shaky breath and look down into the water, relieved that it’s muddy enough that even if something is in there, I can’t get a good look. It’s probably for the best because these fuzzy spiders are not sentient beings.
And now that my victory has settled, horror starts to wash over my damp shoulders.
I’m alone in the woods. I have no idea where I’m at or how I’m going to get home. The temperature continues to dip while I stand in water and ten interested fuzzy spiders wait for me on the shoreline.
What the heck am I supposed to do now?
Despite the fear of alerting any other animals of my presence, there’s only one person out there somewhere with me.
“Exer?” I stare into the cluster of trees above my head. The moons are bright tonight and, thank goodness because, I don’t think I’d be able to stand being in this situation in the dark. “Exer? Exer!”
The woods are silent other than the sounds of the fuzzy spiders on the shoreline. Crap. Dread fills me as I hunker down in the water, catching my breath. But I keep calling for him. Over and over. I want to drown out the sound of the fuzzy spiders. If I’m going to die, I’d rather die calling for help than waiting for the fuzzy spiders to go nap-nap. They’re not going to leave until their prey gives in or something bigger shows up.
Something more terrifying than cocker spaniel sized spiders, of course.
Finally, something answers my call. It’s not a sound I’m looking for, though.
Dread wells up in my chest as I try to figure out what this incoming animal sounds like. The sound is a deep croak, almost like a frog on steroids, and the fuzzy spiders stiffen at the sound, glancing over their bulbous bodies into the cluster of trees. The sound comes more loudly and three of the fuzzy spiders shuffle away.
Great. Whatever’s coming scares the shit out of some of these things, so that’s great for me. I back deeper into the water, unable to bring myself to go any higher than my hip. I’m lucky I haven’t stepped into a sudden cliff, submerging completely, but I can’t celebrate that small victory because that eerie croaking sound only grows louder.
Cold sweat breaks out over my skin. I'm frozen as a few more of the fuzzy spiders flee, but there’s still a few standing their ground against whatever’s heading our way. The sound grows louder and more alien as whatever’s making the sound gets closer. There are a few violent clucks, and eventually, there are only two fuzzy spiders left.
The trees part and a massive figure remains hidden in the shadows. It’s as tall as a Sidyth but the silhouette has four arms and two legs instead of the standard two and two. I back further away, prepared to heave myself deeper into the water if I have to. This sound, this creature, represents death as far as I’m concerned.
A piercing howl follows, and the creature lunges forward, and I spin away, swimming more deeply into the water. It’s thicker than water at home, or I’m tired, but the sound of what’s behind me is enough to keep me going. I don’t want to see this creature. The hairs on my neck stand at attention from the noise alone. There’s thudding behind me and screeching. More thuds. More screeching.
Then, there’s silence.
I’m turning around when there’s a splash in the water.
Whatever killed those fuzzy spiders doesn’t share their weakness.
This creature can enter the water.
“No!”
Panicked, I swim in the opposite direction. No! Not today! I’m not dying today! The creature catches up with ease, but I still don’t look back. Looking back could change everything. Looking back could equal death, and I am not dying today. I’ve already wasted too much time watching the creature approach. That’s my fault, and I get it. But I’m still not going to—
A muffled shout comes from over my shoulder. I can’t understand the words, but it no longer sounds animalistic. My translator device attempts to pick up the sound, but nothing articulate fills my ears. I keep swimming. The voice shouts out a second time and this time; I recognize the sound. I stop paddling and spin back, coming face-to-face with the bastard brave and wild enough to scare ten gigantic fuzzy alien spiders away.
Exer.
I swear my heart stops and the world halts when our eyes meet. The only sound in the air are my desperate pants and Exer’s muffled barks for me to stop swimming. Relief washes over as the Sidyth easily catches up in the water and wraps massive hands around my hips, pulling me close to his chest.
He’s cold. His skin is so chilly that at first, I jump back in the water, splashing both him and me with my flailing movements.
He pulls me back, and I’m chest-to-chest with an alien who’s never looked more like Prince Charming.
Hair soaked to his head. Skin chilled and scales limp — mouth downturned.
Eyes blazing with fire.
He holds me more tightly and then moves back to the mainland without another word. I’m so shocked I can’t say anything at first. I only stare into his golden eyes, watching as he moves so quickly and smoothly.
He must be freezing. He must be miserable. But he’s here, holding me so tightly that I’m worried he won’t ever let me go.
I take in a short breath, sniffing hard as he remains silent, and only the slight sound of water breaking across his pale skin remains.
He’s breathing hard as though he’s been running, and I realize that he must have rushed over when he heard me screaming. It’s hard not to look at him right now. Typically, he’s so brooding and looking as though he’s almost in pain, but now, it’s like I have to take him in, in a new light.
He’s beautiful.
Exer’s not as muscle-fied as Dolan, but maybe it’s better that way because, without so much bulk, he’s able to move more quickly.
That mouth. It’s the same mouth that made horrifying enough sounds to scare off the fuzzy spiders.
Those arms. While not super defined, they certainly did their job catching me in the pond. Water droplets drip off his skin to the earth as he continues to breathe in and out slowly and my attention drifts lower.
His stomach is well defined, despite the thin fabric draped over it, and his thighs are a vision of splendor.
He’s no prince. But he sure acted like one.
I’m antsy with sudden desire.
He saved me. He heard me calling for him and raced here like something right out of a
fairy tale. He scared most of the spiders and did whatever he did to the rest when my back was turned. I’m not going to ask what happened. I don’t think I want to know, but whatever he said about his love for animals must no longer hold when someone he cares about is in danger. Not that I have the guts to be smug about that. I’m sure whatever he did to them hurt him, so I’m not about to point out that he’s actually no less primitive than humans.
When his head starts to turn, though, I find myself glancing away, embarrassed to have been openly checking him out for such a long time. There’s no need for it. We’re friends. Exer wants it that way, and so do I.
Don’t I?
Still, though, the silence between us is awkward, and I keep finding myself listening for sounds of those fuzzy spiders returning. Exer seems calm enough, though, so I try not to let my worries run away with themselves. I turn back to Exer, and I’m shocked to find that he’s staring right back at me. His eyes are moving up and down my frame, landing on my lips, my breasts, and lower than that. He shifts, lifting his hand, and though I usually back away or get uncomfortable when he touches me, this time, I practically lean into his touch.
He gently cups my jaw and pulls my face toward his. He’s still silent. I can’t take it. I have to ask something. Anything. Anything to take away the heat on my cheeks and tingles between my thighs.
“What were those things?”
I’m not sure why these are the first words to fly from my lips. Honestly, it’s not the first thing I want to talk about. I want to know how he saved me, and how he found me. Why he came, and why did he have to look so incredible when he came to rescue me – not that I even witnessed what he did to those fuzzy spiders. But I’ve already asked, and Exer’s almost as surprised as me.
He continues staring directly into my eyes, as though he’s searching for injuries. I don’t have any – not that he can see, anyway.
“Fauders.”
“Fuh-f-fauders.” I stumble over the word as though I’ve never spoken before, and Exer watches patiently as I try a few more times to say it correctly. When he finally nods in satisfaction, he glances over his shoulder.
“I don’t know if they’re coming back. It’s probably best not to risk it. They probably enjoyed your scent.”
“My scent?”
He nods. “The scent of prey.”
I suck in a breath, not used to thinking of myself as prey. Back home, humans are always at the top of the food chain. We had our problems, but we didn’t have to worry about massive fuzzy spiders, err, fauders, attacking us. We certainly didn’t have guys like Exer who would come stomping through the woods, making strange noises and managing to kill said horrible beasts.
“You are all right, yes?” he asks in a low voice, practically hissing under his breath.
I’m not sure why he sounds like he’s in pain, but it’s nothing like the voice I heard before. I come to the painful realization that he only uses that voice when I’m not around. It hurts, but I’m here, and the fauders aren’t, so I’m trying not to dwell too much on Exer’s distant tone. “I’m all right.”
Still, I’m a little embarrassed and find myself fighting to get away from his hands. I can’t stand how good they feel against my skin. I can’t stand how my body flushes because he’s managed to make me feel so soft and feminine.
I guess his tone doesn’t matter. I have to focus on what matters.
He heard me call for him. He came for me. He saved me.
I stop struggling as the forest settles into only occasional howling, but Exer promises these are not the same creatures that attacked us. He wades to a shallower part of the water, still keeping me locked against him, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t bother putting me down on my feet. I feel like I’m the centerfold in a firefighter spread, and I’m not exactly complaining about it. I saw how brave and virtuous Exer could be. I can’t blink those images away.
Still, my skin scorches against his, and after a while I worry, he’s the one suffering from the chill from the water.
With the way his jaw’s set, his eyes dart back and forth, and he squeezes me closer his chest, it’s obvious he’s waiting for something. I’m about to ask him what, when a new sound catches my ears.
Something is heading toward us from the woods. I stiffen in Exer’s grasp, but he doesn’t seem nervous, so I have to think that whatever’s coming isn’t an enemy. So, what is it? Another Sidyth? One of those lizard gorillas? I swallow hard. It’s the woman he’s been coming out here to see.
“Hinda,” he calls suddenly, and my heart crashes to my stomach. “Come, Hinda.”
He doesn’t look down at me, but I guess it doesn’t matter either way because my attention is locked to trees rustling leaves behind us. Something’s approaching and judging by the movement; it has to be big. I curl more deeply into Exer’s chest, and finally, he speaks directly to me.
“There is nothing to be afraid of. Hinda is feared, but you have no reason to fear her with me here. The fauders will not approach if she is close by.”
My stomach drops further. She.
Exer calls out, and though I’m dying to be set down on my feet so I don’t look like a child when the woman approaches, I’m also enjoying the feeling of safety here. I haven’t felt this safe in a long time. Even when Alino wouldn’t let others rape me, I never truly felt safe. But now? Here in his hard, yet soft arms, I’m at peace.
Until the woman Exer’s calling reveals herself and waddles up to the shoreline.
“What the heck?” I squeak, wrapping both arms around Exer’s neck. “What is that thing?”
It’s not a female. It’s not a woman. I don’t know what it is, but it’s one of the weirdest animals I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Hinda,” Exer calls. “There you are, female. I was wondering where you were.”
The creature gurgles back at Exer, almost like she understands him. Like the two of them are having a conversation. The animal appears intelligent enough, although it doesn’t give me a sentient being vibe either. I narrow my eyes in the moonlight, trying to categorize the thing, but I come up blank. Hinda is the size of a tiger, but she reminds me more of a dog; a massive, short-legged English bulldog. Instead of fur, it’s hairless, and her skin reminds me of an elephant’s or a hippo’s. Somehow, it’s wrinkly like a Shar-Pei. It has six heavy legs, six toes on each with wide claws at the tips. It also has two huge eyes. The entire maw of the thing reminds me of a bulldog’s and though it’s terrifying, in its own way, it’s also kind of cute.
I find myself relaxing slightly as the creature lumbers around the shoreline, bounding around as though excited to see Exer.
Hinda’s so much like a dog, but she’s still one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen.
“She will not hurt you,” Exer promises, wading toward the shore. “This is Hinda. She is an idekeiss. Do you have these back on your homeworld?”
I shake my head, not sure what I’m supposed to say. I thought this was going to be the start of a romantic situation, but Exer’s only staring ahead at the, err, the idekeiss. It’s not like I want to throw myself at him for saving me, but I’m holding out for maybe a little more conversation than this.
Exer sets me unceremoniously back down on my feet and crouches down in front of Hinda. Goodness, she’s big, and though I’m kind of curious to touch the thing, I’m not exactly sure of the proper protocol with alien animals. Exer is undoubtedly comfortable with her, all but roughhousing and chatting openly. The creature doesn’t seem to respond or understand, but her feelings are positive toward him.
As the minutes pass and Exer ignores me, I can’t help growing more and more self-conscious. Earlier in his arms in the water, I felt something. I’m pretty sure he did, too, but now? I’m not sure how he feels. Maybe he’s waiting for me to head back? So why did he mention the fauders still being interested in my scent? I swallow hard, wishing that for once, I had some curves so I could swing them around to get Exer’s attention. But instead, I m
erely stalk up to him and the idekeiss, and lick my lips.
“Um, thank you, by the way. For saving me.” Exer stiffens slightly but doesn’t offer much else indication that he’s heard me before wrapping his arm around Hinda’s neck in a headlock of some kind. “I shouldn’t have followed you or whatever, but…” I trail off, not sure how to finish my statement. “I want to say thank you. You didn’t have to do anything, but you came and killed those things—”
“I did not kill them.”
My eyes widen, but he keeps on wrestling. He didn’t kill them? What were those sounds, then? How did he manage to chase them away? It doesn’t make sense. I grow a little closer and put my hands on my hips. “Hey, do you think you could give me the satisfaction of listening when I’m thanking you? Following you was wrong, but you don’t have to be rude.”
He stops wrestling at last, and Hinda waddles a few feet away from him, laying down on the earth and resting her head like a dog.
“What do you want me to say?” He frowns openly, and suddenly I’m not feeling so annoyed.
I’m thanking him, yes, but it’s not like anyone’s in the wrong here but me. And now I’m ruining his playtime or whatever with Hinda and—
“We cannot go back tonight,” he says in a low, clear voice. “The fauders have found your scent most appealing. I suppose I understand. Without Hinda, they will come back. She’ll have to stay close until the morning. That is when the fauders rest in their caves. Then, I can take you back to the lairs.” He nods to himself as though this is enough explanation, turns and moves away from me.
Hinda lifts her heavy body to follow him and left with no other option; I do the same.