When Aliens Weep: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609 Book 7)

by J. K. Accinni

  She rested her head on his shoulder, fighting not to collapse and throw in the towel. Her head rocked back and forth. “No . . . no . . . no. You don’t know how long we’ve been here. We just need to focus on getting out of this hellhole.”

  She straightened up and took his head between her hands. “You love me?”

  Peter nodded and held her tight.

  “You love the baby?” Again he nodded.

  “Then you must concentrate. It’s our only hope.”

  Together they stood in the cool, unyielding room; two scrawny souls that should have died already under the mystifying hands of an alien species.

  She glanced up at the ceiling again. Not good odds. But Ginger Mae didn’t know about odds. She only knew survival.

  She refolded the pallets, increasing their height by a probable eight inches. She moved Peter into position and assessed his condition. “Can you get on your knees, Peter?”

  He complied, steading himself with his one arm.

  “I’m going to straddle your shoulders and then I want you to stand.”

  “Bonnie, I don’t think . . .”

  “Don’t think, just do what I tell you to do. We’ll be fine.” She rolled her eyes and said a prayer.

  Stepping up onto the pallets, she slipped a skinny leg around Peter’s grimy neck. Carefully, she swung the next one around and held tightly to his head; her hands gripping his greasy forehead. She hunkered down tightly with her bulging abdomen pressed hard into his neck.

  “Now, Peter . . . try to stand. Stay as balanced as you can.”

  Peter slid one knee back to brace himself, raised the other leg and rested; half up and half down.

  “So far so good,” he breathed heavily. “You feel very light. You okay up there?”

  “Yes,” she said impatiently. “Let’s try your other leg. This is the hard one.”

  Peter’s lone arm gripped her legs tighter and he slid his knee back toward his standing leg for leverage. Tipping Ginger Mae forward, he struggled to rise.

  “You made it. Good going, Peter. Now walk toward the corner of the room. No . . . the corner.”

  Peter began to stagger under her weight as he took a few steps.

  “Don’t drop me, Peter. Come on . . . you can do this.”

  Red in the face and snorting, Peter made his way to the corner where Ginger Mae braced herself on the walls. She peered up.

  “Oh no.” Wiggling her fingers she raised her arms to the ceiling. A good foot short.

  “I’m going to need to stand on your shoulders, Peter. It’s the only way. We’re a foot short. Maybe if I can get one foot up on your shoulder it’ll be enough for me to reach. Just give me a minute.”

  She studied the lip in the ceiling. She could now see it was part of a hatch. She prayed it worked on a downward hinge. She would have trouble with it if she needed to lift upward.

  “Okay. You still with me, Peter? I’m going to start . . . so please brace yourself and hold tight to my left leg.” She could feel Peter shift his arm, freeing her right leg for lifting.

  “Go ahead, Bonnie. You better hurry. I don’t know how much longer I can hold you.”

  Ginger Mae rested her elbow on Peter’s head, gripping him hard around the neck and shoved off, bringing her foot up to his shoulder. Reaching up she found she could almost touch the lip.

  “I’m going to need to throw myself up so hold on. Do not drop me.”

  “Hurry up.”

  She could feel Peter begin to wobble. Gathering all her strength, Peter’s head now digging into her abdomen, she tried to lever herself up, hoping to straighten her leg and gain the height she need to grip the lip and yank down.

  “I can’t hold you, Bonnie!” Peter screamed.

  “Yes, you can, you son of a bitch.” She bit her lips and strained. Peter’s fingers were like needles in her other leg.

  “For Christ’s sake, Peter. Stop digging into my leg.” Suddenly, she knew. They were going down.

  “Ahhhhh.”

  “Peterrrr.”

  Her head landed on the pallets, her leg hit the hard floor with a crunch. Looking over at Peter, she noticed he hadn’t done as well; his face was flat on the floor and blood pooled around his forehead.

  “Ugh . . . Peter . . . Peter . . . you okay?” She couldn’t help herself from crying. All of her strength was drained, she couldn’t move her leg, and her lover might be dead. The tears flowed heavily. She turned her head to the ceiling. Worst of all . . . they would never get out of here. Her hopes dashed, she dissolved into a hopeless morass of anguish.

  So lost in her own misery, she failed to hear the door open. The burnt odor that portended terror finally hit her nose. Immediately, her heart stopped, terror sweats drenched her and she stiffened. Lifting her face from the floor, she couldn’t believe her squinting eyes.

  A young child in prodigious robes stood in the doorway. Her mouth was open but her lips failed to move as the monsters’ bee buzzing tripped off her lips in lilting form. Alongside her stood a glowing animal with gleaming antlers and a bulbous lion-like tail. They were both dressed in a wrinkled bubble that followed the curvature of their forms, sealing them in. Small identical breathing devices hung from their backs and extended into their wraps. But most incongruous was the creature’s wings that wafted in the cold and the most amazing butterfly that sat on the glass antlers trailing sparks and flames behind them.

  In a complete panic, Ginger Mae screamed in terror and pain as she dragged her skeletal frame and broken leg to the far side of the room. She lay exhausted and mumbling to herself, her arms clasped around her abdomen to protect the baby.

  The buzzing child let loose a tirade of buzzes, harsh and demanding, unimpeded by the wrap that insulated them. The stink of the aliens’ burnt odor increased as several entered and approached Peter.

  Ginger Mae clasped her hands to her mouth, anxious to suppress a moan. Tears depleted her as she prepared for Peter’s death.

  “You will be safe now, Mother.”

  Ginger Mae looked up in horror as the child approached her. Overtaken with terror, her shock complete, Ginger Mae was now dumb to her surroundings. The child waved the creatures forward.

  Mutual buzzing commenced, cold sparks falling from the beasts as they lifted Ginger Mae in her catatonic state and took her through the door after Peter.

  Outside the safety of her refuge, Ginger Mae’s unseeing eyes glazed over the sight of Peter being restrained on a plank and carried inside a clear sphere where the golden creature with the butterfly directed the beasts to lock him into position.

  A sudden flicker of light bloomed in her eyes as they rested on the mammoth creature that waited behind the sphere. It reared its eyeless head; gelatinous flesh with striating flashes of light that soared over the arcane proceedings.

  Ginger Mae felt herself carried toward the sphere where she was strapped alongside Peter. The figures of the child and the golden creature wavered in and out of her limited vision.

  From her supine position, she watched as the monstrous creature from above opened its dark maw and thrust forward to devour the sphere and the lives inside, thrusting them into darkness. Oddly, she was comforted.

  Ginger Mae let her eyelids droop closed as her mind searched deeply for an answer . . . a clue . . . a reason to hold on. As her consciousness began to take leave, she murmured “Daisy,” and stroked her abdomen, never realizing the strange child had slipped her tender hand into Ginger Mae’s.

  “I’m here, Mom. Time to come home.”

  Twenty Seven Days AE (After Earth)

  Chapter 17

  Kenya, Chloe and Echo sauntered along the corridor that let to Jose’s lonely quarters, Caesar padding softly behind. Their heels clicked in the silence, echoing off the breathing walls of the hallway.

  Chloe rubbed her abdomen, feeling a stomachache in the making. “I shouldn’t have stuffed myself tonight.”

  Kenya pranced ahead a few steps, twirling and high stepping with glee.
“You don’t get to look this gorgeous belting down Dezi’s goodies, chickey.”

  “Oh, you. That’s not fair. Did I pick on you when you were pregnant? Besides . . . I felt bad for Dezi, all his hard work and yummy food going to waste.” She licked her lips as she admired the food basket carried by Echo. “I couldn’t let that happen. I still don’t see why Daisy had to go back out on a mission so fast. Give the girl a break.”

  Echo’s aura interrupted, “What is it that you want Sister Daisy to break, Sister Chloe? I promise I will see that she does the first thing after she returns.”

  Chloe laughed and tickled Echo on the back where her wings met. A squirming Echo suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. The golden minion tipped her head back and looked straight up. Chloe and Kenya followed her gaze. In a hushed voice, Chloe asked, “Oh, my heavens. Where is everyone?”

  They stared at the empty space above their heads. Not a minion in sight. The Womb’s walls pulsed alone, fading sunlight casting beams into the void. Chloe and Kenya turned back to Echo, quizzical expressions looking for guidance.

  Echo remained motionless as seconds passed. She slowly raised her head, a tense expression overlaid with fury. Her aura was black and riotous. “There is great danger . . . much death. We must hide.”

  Kenya and Chloe reached for each other, Chloe cupping her abdomen to support the baby.

  Echo moved to Chloe. “I can only save one. Quick, kneel down.” Echo spread her wings. “I will come back for you, Sister Kenya. I must save Brother Scotty’s baby.”

  “But we’re almost at Jose’s quarters,” cried Kenya. She turned to hear Caesar hiss, his body in a full crouch.

  Echo’s aura faded. “We must run.” The group jumped and ran down the corridor. They turned the corner and Jose’s doorway appeared. Darting inside, they looked for cover.

  Kenya scrambled to the bed and threw herself on the floor. “Come on, everyone. Get under the bed.” She slapped the floor. “Caesar . . . come.” The big tiger crawled under the bed as Echo and Chloe got on the floor, Chloe’s breath coming in rough heaves.

  “I can’t do it. I’ll never fit. Go Echo. Kenya, grab Echo. I’ll hide behind the bed.” Chloe raised herself off the floor, her cumbersome figure slowing her down.

  Echo’s aura hit them hard. “No, let me go, Sister Kenya. I can save us. I need to get to the wall. Let me go.”

  Chloe suddenly sniffed, a miasma of spoiled meat slapping her in the face. Her heart beating painfully, she rushed to the side of the bed that hugged the Womb’s wall. Squeezing into the tight space, she shimmied down to the floor, sliding her hands under the mattress to encounter something hard and metal. Gulping air, she tried to slow her tripping heart and ragged breath.

  She heard Kenya mumbling under the bed. “Shhh . . . something’s coming, I can smell something bad.”

  The rustling under the bed stopped as everyone tried to contain their terror. Chloe could feel Echo probing her mind, exerting a calming influence. “Do not move, Sister Chloe.”

  The odor of spoiled meat filled the room. A slithering sound reached their ears, turning their blood to ice. Chloe slowly raised her head to peek. Unable to control herself, she screamed.

  Standing at the doorway, an eight-foot aberration lurked. Its massive head supported a molten and bubbling mass with slits for eyes that contained a malevolent and psychotic glare. But it was the mouth that caught her attention, rows and rows of slashing teeth that dripped with a thick rusty substance. Its slab of a tongue lolled to the side to swipe at the rusty goo. Then it vanished.

  As the strains of Chloe’s scream faded, she blinked. Suddenly, standing before her was Scotty; an eight-foot Scotty with slender olive plant-like arms that reached out for her. She reached across the bed as he held out the strange arms for her. She blinked again and he disappeared,

  “Owww.” One of the arms of the creature had slashed across her hand, opening the skin on her palm. Blood ran down onto Jose’s bedcovers as the creature reappeared, its tongue lolling from the side of its mouth to slobber its rusty saliva down its neck. Its mouth flexed in glee. And in an instant, it vanished again.

  “Please, Sister. Stand back.” Echo crawled out from under the bed, her fire butterfly closed and sparkless. She stood and faced the area where the creature had vanished. From the empty space came an angry roar, livid at Echo’s defiance. It reappeared and made ready to pounce.

  “Stop, Echo. It has Scotty.”

  There before them both appeared the apparition of Chloe’s dead love and Echo’s best buddy.

  “No, Sister. It is the power of the creature. Trust in me. I will save us.” As Echo spoke, her crystal antlers split, dropping an implant in her hand. The red and black missile made for the creature, landing on its nose. It raised its razor-edged, plant-like arms to remove the offense, slicing its nose in the process. In a wink the implant snaked up the creature’s nostril. The monster snorted, sending rusty drops flying, then fell over with a crash.

  “Kenya . . . let’s go . . . let’s go.” Chloe ripped Jose’s bed sheet and wrapped a piece around her hand to stem the blood. Caesar pulled himself out and approached the monster, sniffing and chuffing with suspicion. Echo’s aura hit them all.

  “We must go. I don’t know how long it will be out or how malleable it will be upon waking.” She turned to Chloe and watched her tears. “Please, Sister. We must go.”

  Kenya stepped around the creature. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Come on, Chloe.”

  Chloe hesitated. “I guess that wasn’t Scotty I saw?”

  Echo took her hand and yanked her out from behind the bed. In her other hand, behind Chloe’s back, was the Beretta Jose had hidden under his mattress. She slipped it thoughtlessly into her skirt. “Echo, please tell me. If there’s a chance . . .”

  “No Sister. That was just a manifestation of the creature’s evil powers. We are not sure what else it can do. But it is a death machine and it has been unleashed. We must get to safety. Now.”

  The foursome left Jose’s room, Chloe breathing heavily and waddling with difficulty, her lost blood soaking the makeshift bandage through.

  “I’m not going to make it, Kenya.”

  “Come on, chickey.” Kenya grabbed Chloe’s good arm and placed it over her neck to support Chloe’s weight.

  Echo held up her hand. “I have sent for help, my Sisters.”

  From behind them, they heard snorting. The creature.

  Echo stepped to the Womb’s wall and inserted her arm. The wall separated and Echo stepped back to admit a colorful house Kreyven. Looking over their shoulders, they fled toward the Kreyven; it scooped them up into its maw amid female screams and wild, angry hissing. The Kreyven slipped back into the Womb’s wall and disappeared just as the creature stepped from Jose’s doorway waving its razor appendages, the smell of ripe carrion wafting before it.

  ***

  As soon as the Kreyven expelled their sphere from its protection, Daisy, Ivey and the accompanying minions clapped and breathed a sigh of relief. One never knew for sure if the return trip would happen or not. So many dangers lurked on alien planets.

  Daisy strolled from the sphere and looked around in puzzlement. She turned to watch her mother and Peter wake to vomit in the smaller sphere in which they were being floated.

  Ivey cast a happy aura. “We must get them to the Healer. We cannot have them die on us now. I must present a healthy specimen to Sister Bonnie.”

  Daisy felt a prickle of unease. “Ivey, where is everyone?” She spread her hands to encompass the air space that should be teeming with minions ready to help, and the hundreds that came just to satisfy their curiosity. News of two new humans should have brought thousands. She turned back to Ivey who was now doubled over, as if in pain. Glancing past the navigator, she could see the minions with her mother were in distress. “What?” Daisy reeled with terror as Ivey’s aura slammed into her.

  “Danger . . . death. Oh no . . .” She signaled the sphere. “Come, Sist
er. We must protect ourselves. We must get to the Healer and seal it up.”

  They headed for the minion city on a run, the sphere floating with Ivey directing it from the top, the other minions fluttering alongside to monitor Ginger Mae and Peter who were now out cold. A trumpet of elephants could be heard in the distance.

  Daisy failed to see a sign of life anywhere. All surrounding portals were unattended and empty, even though the nighttime was always busy with comings and goings.

  The Womb loomed larger. She caught her breath as she realized the walls had darkened, leeched of all color. As they approached, she could see the Womb flexing horribly. Terror ran through her veins like a thief climbing prison walls.

  “Oh my God, Ivey. What’s going on?”

  Ivey stood tall on the top of the sphere, her attention focused on the city. “We are not going to make it.” Ivey’s aura faded.

  Daisy’s head whipped around. “What do you mean, we’re not going to make it? We’re almost there.”

  “No, the Womb will protect the planet. It will close up so any danger does not escape.”

  Daisy ran faster, her ears refusing to believe. “But Mom . . . Peter . . . they can’t wait. They need medical care now, Ivey.”

  “I am sorry, Sister. We have done all we can. Just hurry.”

  They didn’t have far to go now; maybe the length of a football field. Incongruously, she remembered the stories Scotty and Kane used to tell her about the great and famous New York Jets from bygone years. If she could just move faster, like one of their legendary football players. She couldn’t lose her mother. Not now . . . not ever. Daisy realized how panicked she was over the idea her mother might die. Her heart yearned for her mother’s touch, her mother’s arms. So close . . . Her despair made her stumble and down she went.

  Ivey hesitated, slowing her speed. Daisy lifted her head from the hard ground, pounding her fist in frustration. “Go, Ivey . . . go. Leave me.” She gathered herself as Ivey shot forward across the grassy field. She sat on the ground as a rumble moved the earth, vibrating through her bones.