by A. G. Wilde
And now, as she stared into the yellow-orange jungle before her, she knew this might be the time all those skills he’d taught her came into play.
As her cage jerked again, tipping dangerously close to the edge, Cleo’s heart caught in her throat.
It was almost time.
Gripping the cage tight, her pulse beat in her throat as things her father taught her replayed in her head.
If your surroundings are harsh and dangerous, you’ll have three hours to survive without shelter, Cleo.
Three hours.
Maybe a little more with this metal weapon under her foot.
Why? Because she was going to use it to stab anyone or anything that stood in her way.
If she managed to survive the fall from the cart and reach the cover of the jungle, she’d have three days to live without water.
That’s three days to find water if the aliens didn’t come after her.
Staring at the orcs’ backs now, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
They were huge and looked unfit.
She could outrun them.
She was sure of it.
Her father’s voice came into her head once more and she swallowed hard.
If you find water, Cleo, you’ll have three weeks to survive without food.
Fuck.
What she planned to do was hard enough if she’d been lost in the wilderness on Earth.
Only an insane person would contemplate executing this stupid, stupid plan.
The aliens operating the cart obviously didn’t think she was insane enough to throw herself off a moving cart. Otherwise, they would have restrained her better.
Well, they didn’t know Cleo Barlow.
Another jolt of the cart pushed her cage a little closer to the edge.
It was now or never.
Eyes on the green backs of the orcs at the head of the cart, Cleo took the piece of sharp metal from underneath her foot.
She’d have to hold it in her hand and hope it didn’t cut into her palm during the fall.
Bracing all her weight on the side of the cage that faced the road, she waited.
With her weight and the help of gravity, the next jolt would no doubt tip her over the edge.
Beside her, the little Chihuahua-monkey stared at her with interest, as if it knew what she was going to do.
She eyed the thing. It looked cute in a weird way, but she didn’t trust it.
She didn’t trust any of these aliens.
She could only hope the little creature didn’t raise an alarm and cause the big green aliens to look behind them.
Just one more jolt.
Just one more jol—.
She’d been waiting for it, but it was still unexpected.
—The sudden feeling of being off-kilter.
—The cage tilting past its center of gravity.
A yelp lodged in her throat as the cage tumbled from the cart and crashed into the ground below.
The pain was immediate as she landed on her shoulder, and she grit her teeth to stop from screaming.
Luck must have been on her side because the cage was rolling. Where she’d fallen off the cart was sloped ground and the metal contraption tumbled into the bushes.
She was vaguely aware of being thrown all around and not knowing which side was up or down. Her head banged against the bars and the sharp piece of metal she was holding dug into her palm.
Dizziness overtook her before the cage crashed into the side of a tree.
There was a searing pain in her head and her knee, and Cleo groaned as she tried to get her bearings.
The world felt upside down, as if gravity was not the right way around, and she soon realized why when the smell of soil drifted into her nose. Her head was against the bars now pressing into the soil and her hair was over her face, obstructing her view.
The soil had a strange metallic smell, not like the dirt on Earth, and it helped make her focus.
Still, it took her a few moments to realize her plan had worked.
Fuck, it’d worked!
A shout somewhere in the distance, no doubt from one of the green aliens, had her jerking into action.
The bars.
She had to force the bars free.
With the piece of metal in her hand, Cleo spun onto her back, her gaze moving over the bars at the top to spot one of the slackened bolts she’d seen earlier.
All she had to do was lodge the sharp metal she’d found between the bolt and the metal bar and hope to God phase two of her plan worked.
She could hear the aliens somewhere in the jungle arguing stupidly with each other, in no haste to chase after her.
Their mistake.
She’d be gone before they found her.
She only had to break free now.
As soon as she managed to lodge the metal between the bolt, she braced her legs against the bars at the top of the cage.
Straining, she pushed as hard as she could, willing the cage to budge even a little.
Her leg muscles protested with the effort, but the bars didn’t even shift.
Goddamnit.
She couldn’t fail now. Not this close to freedom.
Pushing harder, she willed all her strength into her legs as she applied more force to the bars. Her back was pressing into the bars below her, her spine against one of the bars themselves, and it felt as if she was going to cripple herself.
But she couldn’t give up.
She couldn’t.
She could do this.
She heard the alien’s voices again, and this time they seemed closer.
“It must have rolled this way.”
“You find it. I’ll dump the dead fuhol. Looks like the slizz is dead too. Phekking, draxx. That’s a teruva coin lost. I’ll have to dump it as well.”
“Why do I have to go for the human jekin?” It sounded like he was whining.
“You want to dump the dead ones then?” the other answered.
There was a disgruntled sound, and she assumed the alien was dragging his feet as he headed her way.
She had no idea how far she had tumbled, but she was sure they’d find her shortly if she didn’t get her ass out of the frickin’ cage!
But no matter how hard she pushed, the bolt wouldn’t disengage.
In pure frustration, Cleo kicked the bars and the cells rattled. They rattled so hard, the sound echoed into the quiet jungle—but they budged a little.
She could hear the rustle of leaves as the green alien approached and she began kicking, not caring that she was making noise now.
She needed to get out.
She almost lost her balance as a part of the bar bent outward, the bolt flying off. The sharp piece of metal she’d lodged in the spot fell back on her chest, and she stared at the open space in shock.
It was open.
Open enough for her to squeeze through.
She didn’t hesitate.
Righting herself as best as she could, she grabbed the sharp piece of metal and hoisted herself up.
Her head and shoulders fit through the space as she pulled herself through. Bracing her arms on the outside of the cage, she pulled her legs through next.
The sound of the bushes rustling was really close now.
He was coming.
She just about jumped from the top of the cage when she saw one of the burly green aliens appear through the undergrowth.
His eyes met hers and his giant maw opened in surprise.
Incompetent fool.
She couldn’t help the glimmer of mischief and triumph that she knew appeared in her eyes.
They’d underestimated her. Costly mistake.
Without so much as a backward glance, Cleo began running.
Running for life.
Running for freedom.
And hopefully not running toward a sooner death than the one she’d been fated for before.
Behind her, she heard a loud cry that sounded suspiciously like one of the aliens bei
ng attacked by something fierce.
There was a rustle of bushes, but she wasn’t looking back and she was stopping for nothing.
And so she ran.
She ran as fast as her weak legs could take her.
She didn’t stop when branches ripped into her dress or when she stumbled over roots and fell.
She kept going.
Deeper into the jungle she went, as far away from the alien captors as she could reach. And when her lungs and her legs couldn’t take it anymore, she stumbled, falling against the thick trunk of a tree.
Sliding down against the tree, Cleo leaned her back against it and sat on the ground.
It didn’t sound like he was pursuing her.
She must have lost him.
That thought brought a feeling of relief and hanging right on to the tail end of it was a surge of fear.
Now what?
What’s the next stage of the plan, Cleo?
Problem was, there was no plan.
She’d half expected her effort to free herself from the cage to fail.
Chest heaving as she took deep breaths, she tried breathing through her nose slowly and evenly so she could focus on listening.
At the back of her mind, there was the pressing thought that night was approaching.
She needed to find shelter.
Y-shaped branches, Cleo. Her father’s voice rang true.
If she could find some branches of that type, she’d be able to create some kind of shelter on the ground.
As she began searching for the branches, she froze.
She could feel it—it was an unmistakable feeling, a sort of sixth sense—the knowledge that something was watching her.
That sixth sense had served her well for twenty-five years; she wasn’t going to question it now.
As the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end, Cleo spun around slowly, the piece of metal she still gripped pointing outward.
Her eyes scanned the orange bushes, looking for a spot of green that would tell her the green alien had crept up on her without her hearing.
But there was none.
Nevertheless, the bushes moved a little and it wasn’t because of the wind.
There was something there.
As the bushes rustled some more, Cleo took a step backward, fear crawling up her back.
A bunch of hanging leaves moved and a head popped out.
For a few moments, she just stared at the thing.
It was the Chihuahua-monkey.
The animal stopped moving and blinked at her with its large brown eyes.
It remained unmoving as it looked from the sharp piece of metal to her and back.
They stood like that for a few minutes, each unsure of what the other would do, until she slowly lowered her weapon.
She didn’t realize the animal was tense until its pointed ears flattened and it sat on its haunches, watching her.
How it escaped its cage on the cart, she didn’t know.
But it was obvious it had followed her through the bushes.
“Hey,” she murmured to the animal, and its ears perked again.
Crouching, she stared at it.
“What are you doing here?”
The animal tilted its head at her, but it didn’t make a sound.
Taking a step toward the thing, and against her better judgment, she outstretched her hand toward it, staying just far enough away that she’d be able to pull her hand back if it tried to bite her.
The animal’s nostrils twitched as if it was smelling her, and then it moved cautiously toward her hand and paused.
She was just about to pull her hand back when it bumped the back of its head against her palm, much in the way a cat would.
A smile she didn’t expect spread across her lips as the animal moved closer to rub its head into her palm some more.
That one movement settled the anxiety that had been growing within her.
“You’re just lost too, aren’t you,” she murmured, and when the animal paused rubbing against her to blink its huge brown eyes at her, she smiled again.
It was lost. Just like she was.
“You look so innocent…” She studied the little thing. It was innocent and cute, and that pulled on her heart. “I’m going to take care of you.”
It was a promise.
“I’m going to take care of you and me, little Chihuahua-monkey.”
When the animal simply bumped her palm with its head once more, Cleo smiled again.
Three hours without shelter, Cleo.
Three days without water.
Three weeks without food.
She could do this.
She was Cleo Barlow, Thomas Barlow’s spawn.
She’d been trained to face the odds and survive.
1
Present day
(Over a year later)
Walking through the undergrowth, following a path she’d now memorized, Cleo made her way to her lookout spot high up on the side of the mountain.
From there, she could see the road that cut through the jungle. It was the same bumpy road the orcs had been transporting her on so, so long ago.
Sometimes she saw carts rattling through, and the sight of them always sent her back to that day when she’d escaped.
Taking a deep breath now, she settled in the bushes, her gaze on what she could see of the road.
There were no travelers now—not that she could see—but she still remained hidden.
Such was her routine.
She made it a point to surveil the area at least three times a day without fail.
It was the only way she could keep tabs on her surroundings while remaining relatively safe.
Crouching low, she scanned the area far below.
Many times, she’d seen vehicles passing through, but never had the occupants ever spotted her.
She’d taken precautions for that.
If anyone happened to look in her direction, she was sure they wouldn’t see her.
The mud she’d daubed over her body stuck to her like a second skin.
She blended into her surroundings like a gecko.
Camouflage, bitches.
Eyes narrowing, she kept scanning the area. Parts of the road were obscured by the vegetation, but she could see enough spots to tell what was happening down there from her particular location. And so, she kept an eye out for any movement.
On several occasions, she was sure she saw the green aliens that had been transporting her on that fateful day.
For over a year, they kept returning—she assumed, to search for her. But they never, ever ventured far into the jungle.
They always kept close to the road.
As a matter of fact, of the many carts she spotted taking the jungle road, none of the aliens ever stopped and entered the jungle itself.
She didn’t mind. No intruders meant she was relatively safe, and safety meant she could live free.
And, surprisingly, she had been safe. So far, she’d encountered no dangerous animals lurking in the underbrush.
She sometimes heard them though…far in the distance, though they never ventured close enough for her to meet one.
And she wasn’t curious enough to go looking for one either.
Gazing from the lookout spot, her eyes moved over the yellow-orange plant life.
Spots of purple and pink flowers dotted the yellow-orange, making the scene look like some sort of wonderland.
She was a modern-day Tarzan. She even had her own little pet monkey.
As if he knew she was thinking of him, the little Chihuahua-monkey stood upright on her shoulder and rubbed his head against her neck.
“Hey, Wawa,” she breathed and he bumped his head against her gently.
He was her constant companion, the little soft thing, keeping her company when she’d otherwise have gone mad.
Balancing on his four legs, Wawa stretched his neck as his ears perked.
“What do you see, boy?” Cleo whispered, he
r gaze moving back to the road.
Wawa seemed focused on something at the bottom of the mountain, and it took her a few moments before she saw movement through the undergrowth too.
A vehicle of some sort was on the road.
Now and then it would go out of view, hidden behind the foliage, and then it would pop back into the open.
Her heart stilled a little and she didn’t know why.
This vehicle was different from the others she was used to seeing.
It looked like a stocky milk carton on wheels—not like the usual carts that drivers traveled these parts in.
As the vehicle came to a stop, she eased forward a little, her eyes widening even as her brows dived toward her nose.
Vehicles didn’t usually stop.
They were too afraid of those sounds she’d heard deeper in the jungle.
For a few seconds, she waited for the vehicle to continue on, but nothing happened.
That made her stiffen.
From the distance, visibility wasn’t at its peak, but she could see enough to tell it was her original captors—either them, or more of their kind. Their green bodies were clearly identifiable in the transparent front windows of the vehicle.
But something wasn’t right.
They weren’t exiting the vehicle, but neither were they moving on.
Regardless that they’d failed at finding her for so long, it still made her anxiety rise whenever they came looking for her.
At first, she’d considered moving farther into the jungle but two things hindered that:
1. Dangerous things lived in the jungle’s depths. She’d take their roars for a warning.
2. She wasn’t an idiot to not realize she’d found the perfect spot to live in.
With Wawa’s help, she’d found shelter, food, and water.
She had a comfortable house, the weather was good, she didn’t go hungry and she had her own private pool.
The logic of survival demanded that she stay put unless she was forced to leave.
So whenever the green orcs came around, it made her anxiety rise. Life in the wild was as perfect as it was going to get. Leaving to venture deeper would most likely cost her the one thing she wasn’t willing to give up: her life.
She didn’t know how she’d been so lucky to survive this long but her luck hadn’t run out and she was thankful for that.
Eyes still on the vehicle far below, Cleo watched for any movement.