Snowed in With the Alien Warlord

by Nancey Cummings

  The salty aroma of split pea soup tickled her nose.

  A hard finger poked her shoulder.

  Penny rolled over, burying her face in the mattress. For a brief moment she was just a college girl sleeping in and everything was normal. Ordinary. Boring. Split-pea-soup-for-breakfast boring.

  Ugh. Her ability to find a silver lining didn’t go that far.

  “Go away.”

  Another poke. Her alien was awake and wanted her attention. At least he was recovered enough to be a pain in the butt.

  Looky there, she found a silver lining after all.

  Penny sat up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, “I don’t know if you can understand me but you don’t wake a sleeping Penny. That’s no good for anyone.”

  Big Red crouched at the edge of the mattress, holding a can of split pea soup and a spoon. Naked as the day he was born. Of course.

  She averted her eyes. “You want to wear some clothes, maybe?”

  He rumbled a reply, voice deep and smooth, and offered the can of soup again. The words escaped her, but the meaning was obvious. No pants until she ate.

  She took the spoon and choked down a bite of the salty, congealed soup. “No offense,” she said around a cough, “but this is disgusting. I’ll get my own and you can have this.” Clutching the blanket, she went to her makeshift pantry. In the last month, she’d stocked the metal utility shelf with all the canned goods she could scrounge. She grabbed a can and popped the top. “Beef raviolis. Satisfied.”

  He raised a hand into a fist and bent it at twice at the wrist.

  “Is that sign language?”

  He made the same motion but that could have meant anything. He could be telling her off for refusing his soup or taking his pants.

  “If you’re looking for your pants,” she said, pointing to the far wall, “they’re over there drying.”

  Penny returned to the mattress and arranged the blanket around her. The basement was too large for the candle heater to warm effectively. She’d done her best to winterize the basement by blacking out the windows with heavy paper, then covering them with bubble wrap for insulation. She’d repurposed the least damaged rugs from upstairs and covered the concrete floor but the basement remained a concrete hole in the frozen ground. There was only so much bubble wrap and carpets could do.

  She dug into the raviolis, ignoring the bland taste of cold pasta. The basement was protected from the elements and not drafty. The ceiling leaked in the rain but it hadn’t rained in weeks. Snow and melting ice were her concerns now.

  She inspected the ceiling, searching for signs of drifting snow. Nothing yet. If the wind picked up as the radio promised, it would drive the snow right into the house through the missing wall and eventually that snow would fall down on her head through the gaps in the floorboards. Not good.

  A tent would work. She could move some of the shelves and use the tarp to make a covering.

  Satisfied with her plan, she finished off the raviolis.

  Big Red held up his armor and frowned. The pants did not meet his satisfaction and he rehung them to continue drip drying. The shirt he examined carefully, sticking his fingers through the rips.

  “I got a needle and thread,” Penny said.

  All his fingers closed together in a pinch.

  “That a no?”

  He responded with a “yes” sign.

  Needle and thread wasn’t good enough for his space pants, it seemed. Penny pressed her lips together to keep her snark to herself. She was stuck in the basement with the alien until the storm finished and she knew nothing about him beyond the basics. Smart girls kept it friendly. Smart girls didn’t antagonize the mountain of muscle alien who could rip her apart with his bare hands.

  Not that she believed he would. Big Red didn’t seem the type. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have let the lizard get her, back by the river. Or done something to her while she slept.

  He returned to the mattress and crouched down. Penny backed up as a reflex. Her eyes glanced down to the bulge between his legs in case there was any tripod action going on. Still smooth, thankfully.

  He reached for her, lifting up the hem of her shirt. She batted away his hand. “What are you doing? Stop!”

  He stopped immediately. So he did understand English.

  Frowning, he gestured to the angry slashes across his abdomen, then pointed to her.

  His wounds… they should be deeper. Fascinated, Penny moved towards him. Her fingers skated across his stomach, probing the area around his wound. The gashes needed stitches, but she’d decided that warming him up was more important. That was before she fell asleep and, unless she’d slept for days, only hours had passed. Now his wound looked no more serious than some scratches.

  Grumbling, he pushed her back gently. His strength was undeniable but he moved her carefully. He motioned to her stomach again.

  “Oh, you want to know if I’m hurt. I’m fine. See.” Penny lifted up her shirt.

  Grunting, Big Red grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to inspect her back. She waited patiently with minimal eye rolling while he pushed back her sleeves to inspect her arms and hands.

  “See. Fine.”

  Another grunt. His large hand slipped under her waistband, sliding against her skin. Penny slapped it away with a speed that surprised her. “No! Bad Big Red!”

  He sat back on his heels. “Bg’rhed?”

  “Yeah, that’s you, Mister No Manners.” Penny wrapped the blanket around her. “You don’t just stick your hand down a girl’s pants. Honestly. What did your mama teach you?”

  He thumped his chest. “Kol.”

  “Coal?”

  “Kol.” Another thump. “No Bg’rhed.”

  His name.

  “I’m Penny.” She tapped her chest.

  “Pen-knee.”

  “What? No. You don’t say it like that.” She repeated her name again, stressing the first syllable.

  “Pen-knee.” A look of satisfaction settled on Big Red’s—Kol’s—face.

  “Close enough.”

  He tapped his chest again, over his heart, or where his heart would be if he were human. The black tattoos on his arms glowed faintly with a silvery light.“Pen-knee.”

  Penny narrowed her eyes. She did not like the direction of this conversation. “Yeah, look, we need to figure out a way to talk to each other because there are some things we need to clear up.”

  “Pen-knee yes?” He moved closer, leaning over her, and planted an arm on either side. His heavy-browed face leaned down, less than an inch from hers, his eyes hooded.

  Penny held her breath, unsure what he planned.

  He lowered his face to her neck and breathed in as if she smelled amazing and not like she’d been living in a basement for months without running water. Something warm and wet brushed the length of her neck and she stiffened. Through her shock, she realized he had licked her.

  He licked her.

  Before she could process whether it was nice or gross or if she even wanted him licking her girly parts, his hot mouth pressed to her ear and murmured, “Penny yes?”

  “Penny no!” She pushed him away. Fortunately, he let her. She had no illusions about her ability to fight him off if he wanted…

  She gulped, reluctant to finish the thought. If Big Red—Kol—wanted sex there wasn’t much she would be able to do about it.

  “Penny no,” he repeated, keeping his distance.

  “Thank you.” She adjusted the blanket around herself. “I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from, but on Earth you don’t shove your hand down a girl’s pants and lick her on the first date. I’m not that kind of girl.” She fiddled with the blanket again to hide her blush. “Not that I think this is a date. This is so far from a date—”

  “Pen-knee...” The gentle tone in his voice made her look up. His grin almost made him handsome, in a demonic, ogrish sort of way. The lantern light shadowed the rolling dips of muscles of his chest and abdomen
, down to his narrow hips and thick thighs. His face might be an acquired taste, but there was nothing wrong with his body.

  “I should get you something to wear.” She jumped up from the mattress. “I don’t have anything to fit you, but I have an idea.”

  Her selection of sheets and blankets wasn’t endless, but she had more than enough for two people. Folding the fabric in half, she made a quick semi circle with a pair of scissors. In triumph, she held up a blue plaid flannel sheet. “Ta-dah!”

  Kol’s features remained expressionless.

  “It’s a poncho.”

  Penny worked the poncho over Kol’s head and fussed with the fabric until it covered all the vital bits. He flapped his arms, frowning at the billowing fabric. His tail curled up and thrashed at the hem. He was not a happy camper.

  “So it’s not ideal, but it beats walking around naked.”

  “No.”

  “No you don’t like it or no, you’d rather be naked?” Please don’t pick walking around naked.

  “Yes.”

  Penny sank down on the mattress. “That’s as clear as mud. We have to work on communication.”

  Kol went to his armor and fished out a device. Shaped like a bracelet, he put the device on his wrist and poked at the screen. He growled in frustration before ripping off the device.

  “Is it broken?”

  “Yes,” he huffed. He cursed at the device clenched in one meaty fist, shaking it at the ceiling. She didn’t need to speak his language to know he was upset.

  “I bet water voided the warranty.”

  His eyes narrowed at her.

  “Not funny? Sorry. I’ve only had myself to talk to for so long and I think I’m hilarious.”

  He growled, actually growled, low and menacing. His patience was beyond worn.

  “Calm down, Big Red. Can you fix it?”

  “No Bg’rhed. Kol.” He thumped his chest again and repeated his name slower.

  “Is that your phone or something? Can you call your people to come and get us?” She moved to get a better look at the device. It looked like a clear acrylic band, not like a piece of alien technology. “Maybe I got something to fix it?”

  She cleared a spot and set up a folding table, chair and a lantern. “Tools. Tools,” she muttered before fishing around in a bag to produce a black vinyl case. “It’s not much but I used it when I built my PC.”

  Kol held up a tiny screwdriver and examined his phone before grunting in satisfaction. He sat down at the table and disassembled the device. Language barrier or not, that was progress.

  Kol

  His mate—Penny—proved more irresistible than he expected. She was clever and quickly figured out that he could understand her. She was even quicker to realize that, once repaired, his broken comm could rescue them from the never-ending cold. The garment she devised for him was only acceptable because the fabric provided warmth and did not hinder his tail. Every other aspect of the poncho was humiliating for a warrior. For anyone.

  It was marginally better than being cold, so he tolerated it.

  The comm unit was beyond his skill, but he only had the training to perform simple repairs in the field. He opened the device and spread the pieces out to dry. Penny had been correct in surmising that the water damaged the unit. He did not understand what warranty had been voided, but if she meant it was damaged, then yes. It was well and truly damaged.

  “Can I help?” Penny asked, settling next to him at the flimsy table.

  His instinct urged him to grab his mate and place her in his lap, wrap his arms around her and share body heat.

  He resisted, remaining still as she leaned over, her dark curls brushing his arms and setting his tattoos ablaze with desire. They tingled and they lit, climbing up his arms, but he remained still. He had misjudged his level of control, badly, when Penny woke. The crisp cool desert flower scent of her permeated the shelter, clouding his mind. He wanted more than anything to toss her down on that sad sleeping palette and explore every inch of her soft and inviting curves. He needed to touch and caress every part of her. His lips had to claim every part of her and he would drink deeply from her sweet cunt before filling her with his seed.

  Not a first date activity, she said.

  He did not know what a date was, other than a place marker on the Terran calendar. Did she mean that their encounter was outside of time? Time did seem to be in flux when he was with her. It slowed to the point where they were the only people and the rest of the universe fell away. Time also had the frustrating habit of rushing by too quickly. Just as he savored her humor or the resolve in her voice, she rushed on to the next moment, leaving him forever a moment behind. Time was dysfunctional when it came to Penny.

  He would tell her this, just as soon as he fixed the comm unit or learned Penny’s language.

  At his current rate of progress, he would speak fluent Terran before completing repairs.

  “Would this help? The battery’s dead, but you could use it for parts.” Penny held out a small, flat black box. He recognized a Terran communication device and took it with a curt nod of thanks.

  His mate returned to her spot next to him at the table and watched as he disassembled the device. Terran technology was primitive and crude. It relied too heavily on wires and networks and satellites, all systems that were easily neutralized. Power had been delivered from generating plants to private homes via cables. Cables. He could not think of a more vulnerable system, yet Terrans criss-crossed their planet with wires and cables, some underground, but often suspended in the air. They had made it all too easy for the Suhlik to cripple the planet.

  The primitive resilience of Terran technology fascinated Kol. With modern communication systems destroyed, they had fallen back to radio waves. It was not two-way communication, but a central authority could broadcast with little power and nearly every Terran had the correct device to receive broadcasts. Penny had such a device. A turn crank generated enough operational power. Radio was barely a step above smoke signals, yet it worked.

  “It’s silly to get all sentimental about a phone,” she said as he removed the primitive screen. “It’s just a phone and it’s not like anyone’s phone has worked since they destroyed the satellites, but part of me is worried that Aunt Jasmine is trying to call and can’t get through.”

  Kol grunted in agreement. His own clan would be unable to reach him due to the damaged communicator. When he’d failed to report after his patrol, his absence would be noticed. His warlord could send other warriors to search for Kol, but this did not fill him with hope for retrieval. The search party would quickly find the destroyed bridge and the Suhlik shuttle. They would rightly assume a battle took place. They might even find the icy remains of the Suhlik soldier in the river. His clan brothers would find scraps of his armor in the Suhlik’s claws and they would logically conclude that Kol fell into the freezing water and perished.

  If not for his mate, his clan brothers’ conjecture would have been correct. Kol would have perished in the river, either by drowning, or his body would have shut down due to the cold.

  Earth was no place for a Rolusian. Even with the superior Mahdfel genes, his body was simply not designed to thrive in this environment. He knew with certainty that he would survive the winter storm and make his way back to the secure zone, albeit with difficulty. Anything short of another tumble into the river, and he would succeed.

  Now his situation was more complex. He had more to think about than just himself. He had his mate to protect and Terrans were woefully unequipped for their own environment. He would be able to march through the snowstorm and pick his way across the rubble in the river, but Penny would not. The winds that howled around their shelter would cut through her garments and freeze her soft skin. The cold and the snow reduced his sensory perception to frustrating levels, but Penny would be blinded by the snowstorm. He could not bring her out of the shelter and guarantee her safety or wellbeing. Any injury to his mate was unacceptable. The only solution wa
s to remain in place until the storm passed.

  He did not know how long the average winter storm lasted on Earth. So far ten hours had elapsed since he woke and he had no means of calculating how much time had passed since he went into the water. Several more hours, conservatively. Did a snowstorm cease after a few hours, like the sand storms of Rolusdreus? Or could it last for days like the catastrophic storms in his planet’s equatorial zones? He itched to ask Penny for her insight.

  His mate shifted next to him. She cranked the radio and adjusted the dial, listening carefully through the static for another human voice. She sighed and rested her elbows on the table, causing it to rattle. “Sorry,” she said.

  “You will not receive any broadcasts through the storm. There is too much interference,” he said.

  Penny looked at him while she spoke but shook her head. “I didn’t get a word of that, but I think the storm is causing all this static. Normally there’s news. Not great news, but news. And the date and time. I don’t even know what day it is. It’s December, but that’s all I can tell you.” She sighed before setting the radio aside. “Any luck?”

  Kol salvaged the processor chip from the phone and wired it in crudely to his comm unit. It was an inelegant solution but he cared little for aesthetics as long as it worked. “I believe so. It’s as ugly as a saarl’s ass but it should work.”

  Penny smiled. “Ugly is a strong word. It’s resourceful.” Her eyes went wide. “Wait… I understood that.”

  His tail thumped against his leg, pleased. The comm had translated his words slowly in a stilted voice, but it worked. “I am Vadi Kol, son of Vadi Ruh. You belong to me, Pen-knee of Earth.”

  Penny

  “Excuse you?” Penny backed the hell away from the table. “You did not just say I belonged to you. I am not a piece of property.”

  Kol took a step towards her, hands out as if trying to calm a skittish animal.

  And that just made her mad. They were getting along great with “yes” and “no” and pointing, then he had to go and ruin it by being such an alien.