Sex, Love, and Aliens, Volume 1

by Imogene Nix

  Crap. Now she had to do something nice for him.

  She looked at his broken leg. Well, perhaps she could set that before heading out. That would at least give him a fighting chance.

  Touching her leg, she said, “Leg.”

  He just looked at her.

  “Leg,” she repeated, pointing again to her leg. She scooped up a stick. “Leg. Broke.”

  Then she put it all together. Pointing to her leg, she said the word again, then broke the stick and said the word ‘broke’. Then she pointed at his leg.

  “Your leg is broken.”

  He must have figured out her pantomime because he gave her a no-shit look.

  “Bree,” she said, tapping her chest. “Bree. Bree fix broke leg.”

  And she put the broken stick back together before pointing to his leg.

  His eyes narrowed a bit as he tried to understand what she was saying, so she did it all again. After the second time, he gave a slow nod of approval.

  Bree went about collecting the items she needed to set and splint the fracture. Strong muscles held the femur in place, which made it difficult to maintain traction during the healing process so she was going to have to make an improvised traction splint.

  It took a few minutes to find two perfectly sized branches, and using her knife, she wielded two forked edges at one end. One would go under his armpit and the other would be in his groin. Next she took some material she found in the rumble and padded the ends. She had rope, and although she hated to lose it, she needed it to secure the longer splint around his body. Approaching him, she tried her best to describe what she was planning to do.

  “I’m going to make you a traction unit,” she said, demonstrating with the branches on her body. “This goes here and this goes here, and then I use this rope and tie it off. At the end, I have to wrap this around your ankle and twist it so the bone will snap back together to heal. Okay?”

  She knew he didn’t understand a word she’d said but hoped he understood enough not to prevent her from helping. He just stared at her with those large, intense eyes of his, never blinking as he watched what she was doing. He flinched as she touched him and she held her hands up, showing no weapons in a I-won’t-hurt-you gesture. Slowly, she once again went to put the splints in place, and this time he allowed her to do it.

  Once she had the splints where they needed to go, she used the rope to keep them in place. Now was the tricky part. Securing the rope over his ankle, she attached it to another piece of wood at the bottom of the splints and then began to twist the rope. With each turn, the rope tightened on the ankle and began to pull it down. She jammed her feet into the dirt as she twisted and twisted, knowing she had to pull the broken leg down until it was a little longer than the unbroken leg.

  She hazard a quick glance at the invader’s face, and pain dominated his features. His eyes were screwed up and his legs were white with tension, but he didn’t stop her and she continued on. How he didn’t scream in pain she didn’t know. But she saw the bone shifting beneath the skin, moving back into place, and when she figured she’d twisted enough she stopped the torture and secured the rope against the side of the branch. Over time the traction would have to be checked, but she figured he’d be back in the warm bosom of his invader army soon.

  When she was done with the leg, she went to check his bullet wound. It had hit in his shoulder and had been a through and through, thank goodness. She didn’t relish having to explain digging a bullet out of him without a numbing agent. She dug in her pack until she found alcohol and a bandage. She held them up to him, and he stared at her with dull, glazed eyes. Yeah, she bet the leg was hurting like a bitch. She cut away the leather around the two wounds, poured the sterilizing liquid, and then put the clean gauze on them before wrapping the shoulder.

  The next time she looked at the invader, he had passed out again. Well, that was good. She’d done all she could for him. Rising, she grabbed her stuff but left him the weapon. He’d need it if more A-cats came back. Bree backed up and looked at the invader. There, she’d done her good deed for the year.

  Turning her back on the alien, she continued her inspection through the burned village, finding some bodies but also finding a human gun. She checked to see if there were bullets in the cylinder before sticking it in her backpack. She also found some dried meat, which was always a blessing, and these poor souls didn’t need it anymore.

  As she headed out of the destroyed settlement, she turned and looked once more at the invader’s supine body. She kind of hoped his people came for him soon, otherwise her awesome traction unit would go to waste. Although she didn’t know alien physiology very well, she had no doubt his body reacted the same to shock, exposure, and blood loss. If they didn’t come by the next day, no doubt the invader would die.

  Which was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Why should she care whether or not he died? Well, other than all her hard work being for nothing.

  She found the path up the ledge face, the one she’d used to come down, and slowly worked her way back up to her hiding spot. It was late, she was tired, and now she’d be safe from anything, so she decided to make camp like before. As she settled into the warmth of her sleeping bag, she told herself over and over it had nothing to do with making sure the invader below was rescued.

  Nothing whatsoever.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Bree looked over the side of the cliff and saw that the invader was still there. And he was still alive. Now what was she supposed to do?

  She gathered her stuff and repacked her bag, pulling out some nuts she’d found the other day to munch on for breakfast. She kicked her feet over the cliff side and watched him as she ate. The invader was moving around, trying to drag himself to God knew where. He had to be in pain, but she didn’t really care. She needed to get going, heading back up the mountain, because the attack definitely spooked her.

  Maybe she’d give him the rest of the nuts. Surely his people would come for him today, scoop him up and take him home so they could fix him. He’d be out killing humans again in no time.

  She slipped on her pack and headed back down the cliff, being careful not to fall. The last thing she needed was to break her own leg. Once she hit solid ground she walked toward the invader. He watched her warily and she could see the bands of pain bracketing his mouth.

  She held up the bag and poured some nuts out to show him. She popped one in her mouth. And then she tossed him the bag. He caught it in midair and frowned at her. With daylight shining bright and being this close, she discovered his eyes were big and green. She felt something quiver in her belly.

  “I know,” she said, and then sighed. “I don’t know why I’m giving you food. I don’t know why I set your leg. I don’t know why I’m not killing you. Maybe it’s your eyes.”

  He cocked his head, looking at her as if trying to figure out what she was saying.

  “Your eyes are pretty,” she continued. “And there’s not much in this world that’s pretty anymore. Maybe it’s just because I’ve never killed a person, human or invader. In any case, those nuts will at least hold you over until your people come. But do me a favor and try not to kill any humans for a while. If you spare one life, you’ll be paying me back for not taking yours.”

  He grunted and held out a hand toward her, but she ignored it. No doubt he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze.

  “I know you don’t understand me. I know you only see a worthless human to destroy. It’s okay. I see a blood-thirsty monster before me, so I guess we’re even. I wonder what your name is. You were probably in too much pain last night to remember, but I’m Bree.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  She pointed to herself. “Bree. Bree.”

  “Bree,” he repeated.

  She smiled and nodded. She tapped her chest, repeated her name, and then pointed to him. “Bree. You?”

  He pointed to her. “Bree.” He pointed to himself. “Niah.”

  “Niah. It
suits you. Well, take care, Niah.”

  She turned and took a few steps before he called out.

  “Bree!”

  She paused and glanced over her shoulder at him. He held out his hand to her. What? What could he possibly want with her? She had to get out of there in case his people came back.

  “I have to go, Niah. I can’t stay.”

  She continued, ignoring him.

  “Bree! Bree!”

  He kept calling out her name, even when she made it through the line of trees and disappeared from his sight.

  “Bree!”

  Knowing he couldn’t see her, she stopped and sighed. She shouldn’t have given him her name. Damn. Now he could take that back to his people and tell them all about her.

  “Bree!”

  She rolled her eyes and then stomped back to him. “Shut up! Gesh, if there is anyone in a fifty mile radius they’ve just heard you yelling my name! Why the hell did I tell you it anyway?”

  She rubbed the spot between her eyes. Niah began speaking to her in his language, which was a stream of gibberish that held a few growls and some snorts. She held up a hand, trying to halt him, but he just continued on as if he didn’t know that her hand meant shut the hell up!

  “Niah, I have no idea what you’re saying,” she muttered, and he abruptly stopped talking.

  They stared at each other. What was she supposed to do now? If she left again, would he just yell out her name, getting louder each time?

  “I wish I knew what you wanted,” she said. She saw the bag of nuts clutched in his hand. “And I wish I knew when your people were going to show up. Those nuts won’t last long, you know, and starvation sucks!”

  Again, he just stared at her as if she were a bug under a microscope. Something to dissect, she suspected. She was absolutely crazy lingering near him like they were shooting the shit on a warm summer’s day. His people were the ones responsible for her starving in the first place.

  “Why can’t you just go away?” she whispered. “I’m like this because of you. I’m going to be alone forever because of you. I once starved because of you, and if I hadn’t gotten off my ass to hunt game I would’ve died. But I believed my father when he said he’d be back, and you know what? He lied! He fucking lied to me! And it’s all your fault!”

  She screamed the last bit at him and then bit her bottom lip as the last of her words echoed around the glade. Even the birds hushed for a second before resuming their songs. Her little rant made her huff like she’d just run a race. Tears ran down her face, and her eyes went wide when she realized she’d just unloaded on an alien who didn’t understand a word she’d said.

  “I wish you’d never come to Earth,” she said as she wiped the moisture off her face and sat down across from him.

  He stared at her quietly, his big green eyes unblinking. They weren’t the only feature that proclaimed him alien, but she didn’t care. He couldn’t hurt her right now.

  Were they the only two left in this place?

  “My parents and I lived in a settlement like this one once upon a time,” she finally said, feeling this need to tell him what his species had done to her. “We got out at the first warning that the invaders were coming, but my mother was pregnant. That meant she was having a baby in case you don’t know. My father found a cave and we settled in it. Mom had the baby. A boy. I had a brother for about an hour. He died. She died.”

  He didn’t say anything. Perhaps he knew she was dumping all her personal shit on him, hating him, hating who he was and what he stood for. He’d become the scapegoat in her eyes.

  “Can you tell I haven’t talked to anyone in a long time? And the fact that you have no idea what I’m saying is just awesome.” She gave him a thumbs-up in a sarcastic way.

  He gave her a thumbs-up in return.

  She gave a wry smile. “I want to kill you. But…I can’t. I’m a weak, pathetic person, aren’t I? Easily turned by a broken leg and your helplessness. I’m…concerned you’ll starve.” She sighed and buried her face in her hands. What had drawn her back to him?

  “Bree.”

  She looked up at him, and her breath caught at the tenderness in his gaze. It unnerved her, and she pushed to her feet. He watched her, holding out his hand, which she ignored. She might be temporarily crazy but she wasn’t suicidal. If he got his hands on her, no doubt he’d wring her neck, and as much as being alone sometimes got to her, she didn’t have a death wish.

  “Well, I suppose I should hunt. And I can’t stay here. The question is…do I bring you along?”

  He said something, and she pursed her lips.

  “I have no clue what you said. Listen, Niah, I get it. You’re wounded. Those beasts could come back, or some other predator. You’re a sitting duck.” She used her hands to encompass the area and then shook her head. She laid her palm up and then pointed to herself and him and used two fingers to walk across her open hand. “We have to leave here.”

  Slowly, he nodded, indicating he understood.

  She must be out of her fucking mind. But there were ghosts there and maybe that had brought them out of her as well. In any case, they had to leave.

  “And how am I going to move you? A crutch. Yep, because you probably outweigh me by about eighty pounds. Okay, let me go find a tree branch you won’t break. Stay.”

  He cocked his head.

  “Stay here. Oh…right. Where are you gonna go? Stupid, Bree.”

  She slipped her bag off her shoulders and moved to the tree line to find a long enough crutch for him to use.

  “Bree,” he called out, and she turned to glance at him. “Stay. Bree stay.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, Bree stay.”

  Chapter 4

  It was a good thing Niah learned how to use the crutch quickly, because Bree honestly doubted she would’ve been able to help him along. He was as big and sturdy as a tree, and although she was tall for a girl, he towered over her.

  They made their way west, circumventing the blackened settlement spot, toward the river. It wasn’t where she’d intended to go, but she wasn’t going to alert Niah that she planned to go up the mountain. In fact, he wouldn’t be doing much of anything for weeks, not until that bone healed, and by then she’d be so far away that even if his people looked for her they wouldn’t find one single footprint.

  She scouted ahead just a little, not enough to lose sight of him but far enough to make sure they weren’t walking into any danger. At the bank of the river she settled him into a nice spot shielded by large boulders.

  “I’m going fishing,” she told him, and mimicked a swimming fish followed by eating it. He nodded in understanding. “We’ll have to cook it before nightfall. It’s too dangerous to have a fire at night because it can be seen for miles. Which, now that I think about it, you’d probably love, but me…not so much.”

  He grunted, which she took to mean you’re absolutely right but she didn’t stick around to argue semantics. Daylight was wasting.

  The river was cool, refreshing, and Bree took a moment to admire the peaceful scene. The sky was breaking through the treetops, and the water was crystal clear. It had been like this for a thousand years, and no doubt would be there long after her bones had turned to ash. It humbled her in a way that little else could.

  She cast her net and caught several plump trout. On the riverbed she used her knife to clean them, throwing the guts into the river to be swept away. She filled her canteen with the cold water and then headed back to the temporary shelter.

  Niah raised his crutch as a weapon, ready to thrust it into her face as she hopped up on the boulder. Bree cursed and fell back, yanking her knife out of her belt. Shit! Why hadn’t she thought of the damn crutch?

  “Bree?” Niah called out.

  Her heart thundering, she crouched, wondering if she shouldn’t make a break for it now. If her backpack wasn’t with him she’d do just that, but it had provisions that were hard to come by, and she needed her stuff!

  “Bree. Stay.
Bree?”

  His tone was neutral, and slowly she peeked over the top of the boulder to look at him. The crutch was down by his side and he held out his hand. Why was he always holding out his hand to her? He should know by now she wasn’t going to take it.

  “If you try to knock me out, or try to kill me, I’ll gut you,” she told him. She eased up and hopped over the boulder. His gaze flickered to her knife, and she slid it back into its sheath. “I’m going to get the fire going so we can cook these fish.”

  She ignored him, or tried to ignore him, as she prepped a fire with kindling and then used her flint to ignite the dry bits of timber. She brought out a small, flat skillet from her backpack and put some fish on it. Soon, the delicious smell of food wafted around them and she thought she heard Niah’s belly rumble in hunger. They ate every morsel, including the nuts from earlier, and she used some of the water to clean out the skillet.

  She held up the canteen for him, and as he took it, their fingers brushed. A jolt of electricity danced over her skin and she quickly pulled back, staring at him with wide eyes.

  What the hell was that?

  He seemed to have felt it too, because his fingers clenched together and his gaze did a slow once over her body, starting at her head and ending at her toes. Her stomach clenched, almost painfully, and the sensation made her knees tremble.

  She cleared her throat. “I, ah, I’ll put the canteen here. You can have it.”

  She sat it down and he slowly picked it up. Still looking at her, he took a long drink and she was fascinated by his throat muscles as he swallowed. When he was done, he closed the canteen and set it back down. Their gazes met, held, and for the life of her she didn’t seem able to look away.

  What was he doing to her? Was this some type of mind trick they liked to play on unsuspecting humans?