by Tracy Lauren
“Come,” I encourage, and she follows, always keeping the pale light focused on her feet. It is a needless effort in the early morning light, but why argue? It seems to comfort her. She is a cautious one, but I cannot ignore the fact that she is still out here in the jungle with me. Somewhere inside her is a spark of bravery, I just need to fan that flame.
Chapter 6
Vivian
Finally, the morning light is bright enough to chase away all the shadows of the forest. It’s been hours since we left the ship and still we walk, still we have yet to reach our destination. Dax hasn’t said anything, but I know he is taking me to the pod. We are getting off this planet.
“We should break for a meal,” he says, hopping up into the limbs of a tree. He climbs so high, so fast, I wonder if he is expecting me to follow him?
“Hey! Wait! I can’t do that, you have to carry me!” I call after him.
He stops his ascent and peers down over the branches at me, a smirk on his face. “I am only surveying the area, I will be back down to guard you soon, little human. But if you wish for me to hold you during our meal I am willing,” he says with a wide grin, showing off those fangs of his.
I blush, hating the way he smiles at me. He’s teasing me. When he hops back down I refuse to meet his gaze, though I can feel the weight of his eyes on me.
“There is a stream this way, we can fill our pouches.”
I follow Dax and begrudgingly demand his help scooting down a rocky slope.
“It is one small stone!” he says, sounding shocked at my hesitance.
“It’s too high! I’ll fall!” I squeal.
“Fall where? It is nothing more than a step!” His tone is filled with genuine confusion. Seeing my resolute refusal, he pulls the same trick he did when he got me off the ship. He reaches up and gives me a tug forward. My trembling legs buckle beneath me and I fall fast. Deftly, he catches me and sets me upright.
“See!” I cry. I knew I would fall, I told him I would.
“Vivian, I demand you turn around and look at that rock.”
I silently refuse. Dax grabs my chin, turning it for me. I see the rock that I just went flailing off of. I estimate it’s probably no more than eight or ten inches in height. My cheeks heat and Dax lets out a warm chuckle.
“It was my perspective!” I defend. “It looked higher from the top!”
He just laughs, raking his hand over his brow. “Sit. I will fill your pouch.”
I take a seat on a clear patch of earth next to a small, broken log and I hug my legs to my chest.
“I hope you are not a picky eater; all I brought was protein rations,” he says, leaning over a small pond, running a scan on the water within.
I ignore him and focus on the sound of water trickling down the rocks. I am a picky eater, but I’m not about to tell him that.
“Perhaps, if we are lucky, we can find some edible vegetation before we reach the pod,” he says conversationally, ignoring my silence. So, he is taking me to the pod. Beyond that, I don’t care where we go. I just want to keep moving. Forever and ever and ever.
“I am not sure where the nearest docking point is. We’ll have to take a look at the nav system. But I doubt it will take more than a handful of days to—” The one-sided conversation comes to an abrupt halt. When I look up I see Dax is staring at me with a look of shock.
“What?” I ask fearfully. At first, the look on his face almost appears concerned, before he erupts in what I can only surmise to be laughter at my expense.
“What?” I demand as an unexpected bump lands against my hip, a bump that turns into nuzzling. I turn to see the log I’m sitting next to rooting along my hip and butt.
The scream that escapes me is enough to shatter the whole forest, and the living log recoils, grunting at me. My limbs have a mind of their own and I’m like a cartoon character trying to make a run for it, but gaining no traction.
Dax is suddenly by my side and he scoops me up, pulling me away from the grotesque fiend that attacked me. Being the lesser of two evils in this moment, I work to get behind him, shielding myself from danger. “What is it?” I hiss.
“It appears to be a beetle.”
“No! You have to be kidding. That thing was bigger than a Duraflame!”
“Is that a beetle on your planet?” he asks.
“NO! It’s a freaking log!” I exclaim.
“Yes, look! It is a beetle. See, there are many here,” he points out. “They are well camouflaged.”
I slowly take in my surroundings. I see it now. Climbing on the rocks, near the water, are about a dozen of these log beetles. Their heads are freakish and bulbous, almost like the snout of a crocodile, with veiny, translucent wings folded over their backs.
They crawl…their legs working…scuffling over rocks and dirt…heads bobbing…I can hear their movements… My heart races… They are disgusting… I can’t stand it…
A scream erupts from the depths of my core, involuntary and insane. I can’t think straight. All ability for higher brain functions comes to an abrupt halt as my fight or flight kicks in.
Let me clarify that. It is not fight or flight that kicks in. No, it is straight-up, unbridled flight. But, since my higher brain functions are out to lunch, my flight takes me up Dax’s back. I climb the gargoyle man like he’s a damn tree, clawing at his back, shoulders, and horns in a desperate attempt to escape. He spins wildly, shocked and thrown off balance.
“Vivian! What are…? Hold still! Stop that right now! Wait, just wait one second!” He reaches around behind him, trying to get me down, but I don’t want down. I can’t get down. I can’t be within reach of those repulsive things again!
So, there we are, with him shouting out his demands, spinning wildly, and trying to grab at me. All to the music of my screeching and scrambling to stay high atop his back and shoulders. It’s no miracle that he loses his balance.
The fall is fast. Too fast for him to stop it. I try to pull in a gasp of air, but there’s a loud splash and the breath I take in is water. We’ve fallen into the water.
What fresh hell is this? I abandon Dax like a sinking ship, kicking off of him with my legs, desperate to climb out of this cesspool of parasites, insects, and who knows what other alien aquatic creatures. The water is only waist deep, but I claw my way out of it like it’s an endless abyss. Mud clings to the front of my clothes as I pull myself up onto the bank. My boots slosh with water.
I gaze over my shoulder. Dax stands, the water doesn’t come up as high on him. I expect to see anger on his features, but instead there is nothing more than amused surprise. I don’t waste time looking back at him again, I’m still in the grip of my fear. I scramble and crawl over the mud and leaves, trying to escape. He must see that I’m not thinking clearly and pursues me. He grabs at me, but I struggle to free myself from his grip.
“Vivian! Calm yourself, everything is fine! You are well, Vivian, look!” he assures me as he attempts to suppress his laughter. He must catch a glimpse of the terror in my eyes, because his light and teasing tone suddenly changes.
“Hush, human. Hush,” he says as he pulls me into a tight, swaddling hug. He buries my face against his chest, seemingly trying to shut out any sensory input that will bring me further fear. I try to fight him off.
“Settle, little human. Settle and hush,” he says in a soothing voice while stroking the back of my head. My brain starts slowly turning back on. I realize I’m hyperventilating, sucking in huge breaths of air. I try to regulate myself, I really do. But that’s when great and powerful sobs overtake me. I clutch at Dax’s neck, crying as he strokes my hair.
“Please. Please,” I beg.
“What is it, little Vivian? What can I do?”
“Get me out of here. Take me far away. Please.”
He pulls me back, assessing my face. A rare frown mars his endlessly happy expression. He wipes the wet hair away from my eyes. “Can you walk?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, biting back ano
ther sob. I shake my head no. This time, instead of carrying me draped over both his arms, he flings me over his shoulder. I feel like a sack of potatoes, like a useless weight for him to drag out of the forest. I’m helpless. I’m not a survivor like the other girls. I’m not brave. I’m not a hero. I’m limp. That’s how I identify now. Just limp.
I lie there like a rag doll while Dax presses on, wondering if he thinks he’s rescuing me. If he does, I’ll let him think it. But the truth is, no matter where he takes me, I can’t be saved. A person like me was never meant to be in a situation like this. Somewhere, somehow, along this journey…I will die. I’m just going to keep running until it finally happens.
Chapter 7
Dax
If Vivian hadn’t been so upset I might have died laughing. The slow and lazy beetles, although unattractive in appearance, had been well over twenty feet away from us—posing absolutely no threat at all. I had to throw her over my shoulder to keep her from seeing the smile I was attempting to hide.
Poor Vivian. She is a sad sight now, but all she needs is some success—a few small victories to bolster her confidence. I will be the male to give them to her. Right now, she perceives this hole she is in as perpetually deepening. But I will fix it for her. My task will be simple enough, I just need to help build her up. And what a fun process it will be.
When we arrive at the pod it is after nightfall and I am thankful I carried her, otherwise our journey might have taken days. Once inside, she flops down into a chair, curling in on herself and refusing to look at me.
“Exiting the atmosphere will be a bit of a jolt,” I warn her.
“Like when we left that other place…where you found us?” she groans from beneath the curtain of her matted brown mane.
“Oh no! We were in a class 1 cargo ship when we left the Mangan moon. This is merely a pod, the turbulence will be much more intense this time,” I say while eying her.
“Of course it will be. Isn’t there anything you can do?” she pleads, peeking through those messy locks.
“Do?” I ask.
“To make it less…less…” She searches for the words, but falls silent as familiar tears well up in her wide eyes.
“You may sit on my lap if you wish.” I shrug. She jumps from her seat, ready to make her way to me.
“Not yet,” I laugh. “I have to prepare the pod for take-off.”
Her face turns a bright shade of red and she averts her gaze.
“What does that mean?” I ask as I move about the tight cockpit.
“What?” she questions in a tone barely above a whisper.
“When you change your shade like that? I know of creatures whose colors flare when threatened. Is it meant as a warning?”
“You can consider it one,” she huffs out angrily, her arms crossed over her chest. I move to her side and bump her lightly with my forehead, a playful and friendly gesture. She jumps back, startled, gripping at the control panel.
“I mean no offense by pointing it out,” I assure her. “How else am I to learn about you if I do not ask? I would hate to activate your venom sacs or cause your dorsal fin to release its barbs unintentionally.”
“Venom sacs? My dorsal fin? Do I look like I have any of those?” she asks, incredulous.
“I have a feeling you might surprise me.” I trail off, studying her features, which grow increasingly angrier.
“Not with a dorsal fin!” she declares.
“Perhaps not,” I laugh and return to the controls. We are almost ready to depart.
“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you? Must be such a challenge to tease the frightened human.”
“I would never tease you, my goddess!” I exaggerate my shock at her words. And though I can see her anger rising, she simply purses her lips and turns away from me. I feel an odd sense of disappointment at the truncated battle.
“Come,” I call to her as I take the pilot’s seat. She struggles to face me. “It is time to go, Vivian. I will hold you during our exit from this atmosphere.”
She comes to me then, a mixture of reluctance and desperation. I lean back into my seat and welcome her into my arms. Holding her around her small waist, I use my free hand to activate the controls and steering column.
“Wait!” she screeches as the pod begins to lurch.
“What is it?”
“We need a seatbelt!” is her sincere and frightened reply.
“Vivian!” I laugh, “The restraints will not fit around both of us, and regardless, only a fool or someone with intention could possibly crash in space. There is nothing to hit!”
“But what if we don’t make it out of orbit and crash back down to the planet?” she rationalizes.
“You wound me, female! I am a pilot! An excellent pilot at that!”
“Can’t we just—” Her voice wavers.
I let out a long sigh. Now I see why the other humans coddle her. She demands it.
She recognizes the look of exasperation on my face. “Don’t you look at me like that! You act like I didn’t get a concussion and broken bones from the attack on the cargo ship! My fears are rational!” she insists.
“Do not let one accident cloud your—”
“Accident? Accident? We were shot at on purpose! That’s not an accident, that’s a precedent!”
“The restraints simply will not fit!” I counter.
She huffs out an angry breath, ignoring me and fishing behind my back for a portion of the restraint. Her small hands are smooth against my skin and her mane tickles at my collar bone. For some reason I am all too aware of her small and inadvertent touches.
Finally, she finds what she is looking for. First verifying that I am not telling her a falsehood, she stretches the strap to its limit, testing to see if it will in fact miraculously fit around the both of us. It does not. So instead, she wraps it around her arm multiple times before gripping the last short length in her small and feeble fists.
“Okay. I’m ready,” she says, her voice almost confident. I don’t tell her that if we were in an accident, what she has done with the restraint would likely rip her arm from her body. There will be no crash, though, so I choose not to worry her unnecessarily.
“Alright, here we—” I begin.
“Dax?” she calls out suddenly.
“Yes, Vivian?”
“Please don’t make fun of me anymore. I just don’t think I can take it,” she pleads, looking near tears again.
I release the steering column and cup my hands around her soft cheeks. Her eyes immediately squeeze shut. “Look at me, little goddess,” I demand. It takes her some time to respond, but she does finally peer out at me. “I will never tease, mock, or ridicule you. I might attempt to make you laugh, but please do not penalize me if I fail.”
“No laughter then,” she amends.
“No laughter?! What a cruel dictator you are! It is impossible!” I exclaim.
“Dax, please!” she begs.
“I tell you this, if you steer us into space under my guidance, I will not laugh at all in your presence for…hmmm, three rotations,” I counter, hoping she will take me up on my offer. In all honesty I am dying to give Vivian flight lessons. There is nothing sexier than a female at the helm, but she shakes her head, frowning, and buries her face into my neck. And though I am disappointed she does not accept her first flight lesson, I find her nearness to have a bewitching effect over me. I greedily pull her tighter against my body as I engage the engines once more.
The pod shakes from the power of our forward momentum, and Vivian digs her dull claws into my flesh. I shift in my seat to hide evidence of the thrill I am feeling. Any other female I would be bolder. However, I sense that is not the route to take with this particular female.
Chapter 8
Vivian
When the pod finally stops shaking I find myself gulping down air like a drowning victim. Dax blindly pats at my back to calm me while working at the computer screen.
“Our course is set,” he a
nnounces, slipping out from beneath me and plopping me back into the driver’s seat. “You see these lines?” he asks, indicating pale red lights surrounding the joystick-like thing he steers with.
“Yeah.”
“Keep them centered and we will remain on course. If you deviate too far an alarm will notify you.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, confused.
“You are driving. I am sleeping.”
“What? How can you sleep at a time like this?”