by Ruby Dixon
I touch his cheek, frightened. “Are you all right?”
“Just…tired. Need to rest for a few.” He tries to manage a half-smile for me, but I can tell he’s exhausted.
Dremmigan isn’t happy with this development. He crouches next to Jutari and nudges his leg. “Now is not the time to rest.”
Jutari puts a hand over his eyes, rubbing them. “I know. I just need a moment.”
I want to snarl at Dremmigan. I move protectively in front of Jutari, doing my best to push the other alien aside. “He can take a few minutes to sleep. Leave him alone.”
“Now is not the time,” Dremmigan states again. “Make your beacon. Call your friend who will rescue us.”
“He can do that after he sleeps for a half-hour,” I protest.
“No, it needs to be soon,” Dremmigan states again. “We do not have enough supplies to last out here for several days.”
I’m silent at that, because he’s not wrong. We’re out of water and food. The supplies Dremmigan’s “great” connection brought us weren’t much at all when split three ways. Still, I can’t help but feel guilty over the fact that Jutari hasn’t been sleeping because he’s been protecting me. I want to give him the same courtesy. “We’ll think of something.”
“He needs to make the communicator now,” Dremmigan states again. “He can rest when our rescue is on the way.”
“Leave him alone—”
“No, it’s all right,” Jutari says, touching my arm. “He’s right. I can relax when the beacon is set up.” He sits forward, rubbing his face one more time. “Hand me my bag, Chloe?”
I shoot Drem an angry look and get to my feet, retrieving the bag that Jutari set down a few feet away. The big blue alien takes out pile after pile of components and wires, and I worry that he’s not going to be able to make a communicator at all. I wouldn’t even know where to begin if it was up to me, and it just makes me exceedingly aware of how dependent I am on others. Never again. If I get out of here, I’m going to learn how to take care of myself.
I watch as Jutari begins to twist wires and attach computer chips, stringing a series of electronic doodads together. It looks like nothing at all to me, but Jutari never pauses, not even when the wind howls through our small canyon and blows grit in our faces. After what seems like forever, he connects a small blue wire to a thing that looks like a knob. A low-pitched whine fills the air, and that slow, confident grin crosses Jutari’s handsome face.
“Is that it?” I ask. “Did you do it?”
“It’s sending a signal,” he tells me with an easy smile.
“Yes, but where is the information it must send?” Dremmigan doesn’t look pleased. He gestures at the cobbled-together components that Jutari has cleverly made into something new. “A beacon must have information to transmit.”
“I have the information.”
“Where, in your mind?” Drem scoffs. “It must be precise if—”
Jutari pulls out the knife. I freeze, wondering what he’s going to do with it, and I’m even more alarmed when he puts the tip inside his mouth. But a second later, he plucks a tiny disk from his tongue and then spits out a mouthful of blood. “Had to keep it somewhere they wouldn’t look.”
“But…how?” I ask. “They checked everything on me, right down to my fillings.” I resist the urge to rub my ACL surgery scar, because I don’t trust Drem not to tear me open looking for the screws in my leg.
“It’s a special black-market material,” Jutari says, wiping at the tiny square. “Made for such occasions.” He finds a tiny slot in the makeshift beacon, inserts the chip, and then something begins to spit out an endless string of numbers. “Our location,” he says when the computerized voice finishes speaking. “I’m sending this directly to Kivian. Our rescue will depend on what side of the galaxy he’s on, of course, but he’ll come for us.” He leans back and closes his eyes, resting against the rock. The knife hangs loosely in his grip, resting on his lap. “We just have to bide our time until then.”
“It is done?” Dremmigan asks. “Nothing further needs to be sent?”
“Done,” Jutari agrees, not opening his eyes.
I hold tightly the rock I picked up, suspicious of Drem’s constant questions. We’re all on edge, I remind myself. It’s nothing more than that. But…I don’t like the way he keeps eyeing the knife in Jutari’s lap. I don’t trust him.
But Drem walks away, to the front of the small canyon. And I relax a little. It’s just my imagination.
“Chloe,” Jutari says, his voice a tired caress. “Come and sleep next to me.”
I’m tired, thirsty, and sore. I would love to. But I can’t stop thinking about how much sleep he’s given up just to protect me. I sit at his side and stroke his arm. “You sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
He nods without opening his eyes, and I know he’s been pushed to the ends of his endurance. He reaches for my hand, rubbing my fingers. That small gesture is enough to make my heart melt all over again.
Sometimes it’s the small things that are everything.
8
CHLOE
It doesn’t take long for shit to go downhill.
Jutari’s been asleep for a short time, his hand on my knee. He sleeps deeply, and while he does, I mentally try to figure out how we’re going to make supplies appear out of thin air. I’m racking my brain, trying to remember survival scenarios from reality TV shows. I remember that you can make water appear in the form of condensation even when in a desert, but I don’t recall all the details. There was a sheet of plastic involved, and we don’t have that, so I’m going to have to think of something else. I pick up Jutari’s bag and dig through it to see what we have to work with—
A shadow falls over me from behind.
My skin prickles, and it goes quiet in the canyon. I force myself to remain silent, to act like nothing strange is going on. My heart’s pounding with fear, though. Stupid me to turn my back to Drem. Stupid me to leave the knife at Jutari’s side because I didn’t want to bother him.
I casually slide my hand over my rock, gripping it tight against my leg. Just let him try something. I’m ready for him. I—
A hand grabs my face from behind. Turns out I’m not ready. Before I can do anything, he’s ripped the breather off my nose and flings me aside. I didn’t realize he was so strong.
I make a choked sound as I get my first lungful of the unfiltered air. It feels like there’s nothing there, and I gasp again, trying to breathe. This is not how I’m going to die! I get on my hands and knees quickly, ready to race over and grab the breather off the ground.
Dremmigan puts his foot down and there’s a resounding metallic crunch. He’s crushed it underfoot.
Oh shit. This…is how I’m going to die. That fucker.
He moves toward Jutari, who’s still unmoving and unconscious. Maybe we haven’t been loud enough to wake him up yet. Alarm ripples through me as he approaches the big blue alien, and I don’t think—I just act.
I grab my rock and slam it down on Dremmigan’s foot.
The gray alien howls with pain, knocking me aside with a sweep of his arm. I go flying across the chasm, crashing into a heavy rock. The pain that flashes through me is awful, but I struggle to stay conscious as the black rises at the edges of my vision. He’s going to kill me now, I know it. Doesn’t matter, because I’m going to choke to death either way. But maybe I can save Jutari.
A blue blur moves through the cave, and I watch, gulping uselessly at the air as Jutari’s big body slams into Dremmigan’s leaner one. The knife flashes, and Jutari’s big hand rises. I close my eyes and don’t watch. I can hear it all, though, the wet slam of the blade into Dremmigan’s body, his gurgle, and then silence.
“Chloe?”
I open my eyes, panting, to see Jutari. He’s gotten to his feet, Drem’s still form behind him. The knife in his hand drips with blood, but I don’t even care about that. I put a hand to my throat. “Breather,” I choke out. “Need his.”
/>
“That keffing bastard,” he bites out, touching my cheek. He moves to Dremmigan’s side, and I wheeze, horrified at how awful this feels. I’m choking to death despite breathing. It’s the most helpless I’ve ever been, and my vision grows fuzzy. What if Drem’s breather doesn’t fit? What if—
Hands touch my face, and in the next moment, something clips painfully onto my nostrils. “Breathe through your nose,” Jutari murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
I inhale deeply—and end up coughing. But it’s air, and I spend the next few moments just taking in as much as I can, while Jutari cradles my head in his lap and strokes my hair. When I can breathe without worrying my air is going to disappear again, I give a little sigh and touch his hand. It’s stained with a darker shade of something, but I don’t even care. “Did you kill him?”
“Yes. Does that disappoint you?”
“Not in the slightest.” I inhale deeply again. Pretty sure I can smell Drem on the breather, but pretty sure I also don’t care. It’s just nice to be able to breathe again. “Bastard tried to take you out while you were sleeping.”
“Once I heard him attack you, I feigned sleep to take him off guard.” He caresses my cheek, his thumb stroking over my jaw. “Just when your face was no longer discolored, new bruises show up. I am a terrible protector.”
“Stop,” I whisper, closing my eyes and enjoying his touch. “You were worn out. You’re allowed to sleep for a few minutes.”
“You did your best to protect me,” Jutari says, voice soft. “I am humbled by such actions.”
“Of course I did.” His praise is making me feel shy. “You looked out for me all those days. The least I could do is not let some asshole murder you.”
“You could have let both of us die and then stolen away when Kivian lands. Or turn Kivian in to the prison authorities.” At the disgusted expression on my face, he chuckles. “I am glad your sense of honor is so strong. It is rare to find these days.”
Sense of honor? Is he crazy? “No sense of honor involved. I’m happy you pulped his face. I think we’re a team. Don’t thank me for valuing your life because I care for you.”
He smiles down at me, still stroking my cheek. “My people have a saying…you own my heart, my Chloe.”
I beam up at him, forgetting all about the hurts and the thirst and the borrowed breather I’m wearing. “I don’t know if I’m officially in love yet, because the situation’s been too weird. We’ve never had a chance to be alone before now. But I feel things for you. Lots and lots of things. It’s just…so soon.”
He chuckles. “You are not there yet, but you will be.”
Yeah, I suspect I will be, too.
JUTARI
We dispose of Dremmigan’s body, stripping it of what few items he has and then burying it in the red, sandy soil a short distance away. No sooner do we cover the last of his bright skin than another search vehicle flies overhead, leaving us scurrying back to safety. We are both tired and curl up against each other to wait it out. I must be more tired than I’ve imagined, because I fall into a deep sleep, and my dreams are filled with Chloe. I dream we’re stand together near a wide, open field with no one around but us. Unlike the terraforming fields, these are tall and lush with golden grasses and thick crops. She smiles at me, her hand on her belly, and I feel a sense of utter contentment.
I almost hate to wake up.
When I drift awake, though, I think I’m still dreaming. Chloe sits nearby, her legs tucked under her. She’s completely naked, her skin glowing and pale in the strange reddish light of this planet. From where I lie, I can see the dimpled curve of her bottom, the gentle flare of her hips, and the lovely, smooth line of her back. I feel a sharp stab of pleasure at the sight of her, since this is the first time I’ve been able to truly look my fill at her without the encumbrance of prison clothing. She seems smaller from this angle, and softer, though I’m not sure that’s possible. “Chloe?”
She turns to look at me, a hint of a smile on her face. “You’re up. Did you sleep all right?”
I still feel as if I could sleep for another two days, but I nod. “No signs of a ship?”
“Nothing yet. No more search parties, either.” She gets to her feet, uncurling her legs, and moves forward. As she does, I see that her uniform and Drem’s uniform have both been spread flat on the ground, each one covered in rocks. What is she up to? At my curious look, she chuckles and reaches for my hand. “Want to see what I’m doing?”
“Did you not sleep?” I let her take my hand, though I’m more interested in watching her curvy little body than anything else. The sight of her makes my tired body feel rejuvenated, my cock springing to life at the sight of the thatch of curls between her thighs.
Chloe shakes her head at my question. “I was too wound up. I decided to see what I could do to try and make us some water.”
“Make us water?” I hope this isn’t a human bathroom euphemism.
“Yes! I was thirsty, and I remembered seeing something on survival shows about how if there’s a lot of heat and moisture, you can collect condensation on plastic. The air’s so muggy here that it has to be carrying a lot of water. Our prison uniforms feel a bit like plastic, so I thought I’d give them a try. It took me a few tries to figure things out. I tried hanging them at first, but that didn’t do much except flap in the breeze.” She moves to the edge of one of the uniforms spread out on the soil and picks up the rocks holding it down. I notice there’s one weighing down the middle and making it dip, and I realize when she pulls the uniform back, it’s because it hangs over a large scooped-out hole. At the bottom of the hole is one of our empty water pouches, and she carefully picks it up, then holds it out to me, beaming.
Sure enough, at the bottom of the pouch, there’s a tiny bit of water. It’s not more than a few sips, but it’s water.
“We don’t know how long we’ll be here, but if we can collect water, we can survive for a bit longer.”
I am amazed at the cleverness of my girl. She watches me with an anxious expression, as if looking for approval. I want to grab her and hug her close and tell her just how happy she makes me, but she’s holding the precious water. “Drink it,” I tell her.
“Oh, but I made it for you. You’re bigger than me and probably need it more.” She offers it up to me again. “I can wait for the next round.”
“And I insist that you drink it,” I tell her, fascinated by the gentle swell of her pink-tipped breasts out in the open instead of hidden under her prison jumper.
“Then we should split it,” she says firmly. “Because I’m not playing the ‘your survival is more important than my survival’ game for longer than we have to. The sooner I put this back under there, the sooner it collects more water.”
I chuckle and take the small bag when she offers it again. “Very well.” I take a precious sip, then another, and then pass it back to her.
She tips the bag back and drains the rest, and then makes a face. “I don’t know if I’m disappointed that there wasn’t more, or kind of grossed out that it was so warm it’s like drinking spit.”
“But it is water we did not have, and will make surviving here easier until Kivian arrives.”
Chloe bites her lip and gives me a worried look. “You’re sure he’ll come?”
“I am sure.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
“Because he is my brother.”
Her eyes go wide with astonishment. “You never said!”
“It never came up. We have gone our separate ways for a long time, but the chip is something we have both had since our youth. It was my father’s idea, actually.”
“Your father?”
I nod. “He was a rather infamous privateer and wanted us to have a way to escape from anywhere if we got caught.”
She just shakes her head, amazed. “There is so much I need to learn about you.”
And I about her. But we will have all the time we need once we are free from this hellish planet.
I watch her as she bends down and puts the bag back in the hole, then covers it with the uniform once more. “Here,” I say, undoing the neck on my own jumper. “Take mine and we can add it to increase our water.”
“Great idea. Bring it over here.”
I strip down and watch as she digs another hole in the loose soil, then gently sets the empty bag down at the bottom. At least, I try to. But it’s distracting when she’s so naked and moving around. Her breasts jiggle as she moves, and her behind has the roundest curve to it that makes my mouth water. By the time she’s done and stands up, dusting her hands off, I’m thinking about all the things I want to do to her now that she’s mine and mine alone.
And I can’t stop thinking about the mouth-on-mouth she told me about. It breaks all kinds of hygiene laws, but…I cannot say that I’m not intrigued by it. What does it feel like, I wonder. What is the benefit? It must be pleasurable or she would not have suggested it. I’m fascinated at the thought.
She turns around and looks at me, and her gaze grows soft, her lips parting. “What are you thinking about?” She sounds breathless. “You’ve got a strange look in your eye.”
“I was thinking about you and your mouth,” I tell her bluntly. “We are alone now, and I would make good on my promise.”
“Promise?” Chloe looks flustered. “Oh yes. Our first kiss.”
Her reaction fascinates me. I move forward and brush my fingertips over the pink swell of her mouth. “Show me how to do this.”
“All right.” She bites her lip, and I am drawn to that tiny movement. Her hand moves to my chest, and then she peeks up at me. “You’re a bit taller than me, so this might be tricky.”
I snort. A bit? I stand nearly two full heads higher than her. “How do humans handle such things?”
“Well, we aren’t nearly as tall as you. And when we are, we both sit down together.”
Ah. That makes sense. I drop to my knees and extend my arms toward her. “Come, then.”