by Aubrey Cara
I ease my stranglehold on him.
“You’re crazy,” I tell him. Who enjoys that kind of turbulence? A crazy Alogorian, that’s who.
He takes my hand and places it over my heart, covering it with his. “Do you feel that?”
Under our hands, my heart is galloping out of my chest from the blind terror I just experienced. “Yeah, I feel that.” My pulse is roaring in my ears louder than the Niagara Falls.
“That is what it is to be alive.”
Holy space balls, I’ve been sacked with an adrenaline junky alien. “Funny. It feels a lot like a heart attack.” I take a fortifying breath, because really, I’m super relieved to be on the ground, even if it’s the ground of a foreign…planet.
Standing, Oathar sets me on my feet and smooths his hand over my hair. “Be at peace, Bombee,” he says, his accent still strong when pronouncing my name. “I would not let any harm come to you.” Before I can process that loaded statement, he takes my hand and pulls me behind him to the shuttle door. “Come,” he says in his usual imperial manner. “We must make haste to beat the storm to the mah-kun.”
“The what-a-whata?”
He doesn’t answer me, but that’s okay. I’m not sure I would hear him anyway. My mind is boggling. We’re surrounded by all sorts of spacecraft, and there are two vehicles hovering to the left of us. Brawny Alogorians wearing nothing more than leather miniskirts are waving us over and bowing to Oathar. And eyeing me.
I’m too freaked out to be self-conscious.
There are alien natives in loincloths hanging out in a monstrous shuttle bay. It’s like being on the set of some sci-fi movie.
Unreal.
I’m going to wake up any minute in the hotel room I’m sharing with Brook and Bri in France. They’ll be laughing about how drunk I got. Well, Brook will be laughing, Bri will be complaining, and all of this will be nothing more than a wine and gluten-induced dream.
Oathar is talking, or giving commands to the men as I check out our surroundings. I think we’re inside a huge cliff. And when I say huge, I mean at least two football fields in size. The pink-and-gray rock walls are dotted with recessed lighting. A hundred feet or so up in the ceiling is a giant retractable opening.
The rumble of thunder echoes off the cavernous walls. Here on the ground level is another opening where I catch flares of lightning. Each bolt lights up the sky, illuminating the terrain. In the flashes, I can make out mountains and desert, so familiar, I can almost imagine I’m back home on Earth.
I glance over to see Beast Boy striding toward me. I’m so not on Earth.
“You will see Alogoria better tomorrow,” Oathar says scooping me up in his arms as if I weigh nothing at all. “We must hurry.”
He sets me in a floating vehicle that is strangely a lot like Luke’s landspeeder in Star Wars, but more bobsled-ish. Instead of the seats being side by side, it’s front and back like a fighter jet.
There are long door handles on either side of me, but I don’t think the side panels are actual doors. Maybe the handles are just ‘oh shit’ bars, seeing as there are no seatbelts.
I realize the vehicle is floating, so it must be on but I hear only a light hum. This is totally the Prius of hovercraft, I snort to myself.
Everything appears sleek and new. Glancing over to where Jhyr and Niin are getting into their own hovercraft thing, I notice it looks more dated. I wonder if this is Oathar’s personal vehicle. I guess being Yon Tor must have some perks like being a politician/ruler on Earth. He gets the fanciest flying car thingy.
A glass dome slides closed over us, and I fight a moment of claustrophobia despite being able to see outside. “Is there any air in here?” I search for vents.
Oathar ignores me as he presses buttons then eases the shift forward, moving the vehicle around the shuttle bay to the opening. The sensation is nothing like being in a car. I’m very aware we’re floating. I try to see up and around Beast Boy’s big ridged head and wide shoulders to the controls. If I get a chance to make a break for it, I need to know how to steer this thing.
Each of Oathar’s huge hands is wrapped around a joystick controller. The console in front of him has a multitude of glowing buttons with symbols that make no sense to me. In front of us, Jhyr and Niin’s vehicle takes off into the night like a shot, and I realize these things go fast.
Really fast.
My dad may have been a race car driver, but unlike Brook, who’s worked alongside her dad since she could walk, I was never allowed within twenty feet of his cars. I don’t even ride roller-coasters.
I have two point two seconds to grab onto the ‘oh shit’ handles before being flung back in my seat.
We’re flying.
CHAPTER FIVE
Earth Girl Guide to Surviving an Alien Abduction
Tip #35
Keep your friends close, and your alien captor closer
BAMBI
The land all around is lit up in flashes, but all I can make out are the imposing mountains in front of us before we make a sharp turn. The rumble of thunder chases us. It’s powerful enough to shake our vehicle, and we’re not even touching the ground.
The terrain rises in front of us, and we ride. Up, up we follow the rise. With a sudden drop, we swoop down at the crest. I scream, my stomach doing a somersault. Blessedly, we slow, entering a crevice in the side of a rock formation. I push my hair out of my face. Niin and Jhyr’ have already landed and are pulling a cover over their vehicle.
The glass dome of our hovercraft slides back as we pull in alongside them. The wind has whipped up and makes a hauntingly loud echo in the open cavern.
“Take her,” Oathar yells as he gets out and begins securing the vehicle. Jhyr plucks me out of my seat. I want to protest, but he’s already running into the storm with me cradled to his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck, hiding my face against his shoulder as gusting winds whip shards of sand against us. A bolt of lightning cracks down in front of us. Jhyr stumbles with me in his arms before taking off at a run once again.
We slide into a dugout opening that seems to appear from nowhere. Breathing as heavily as if I just ran the distance instead of him, I smooth down my hair and clothes when Jhyr sets me on my feet. Though I can hear the howl of wind, and the ground shakes with the force of lightning blasts and rumble of thunder, the sounds are blessedly muffled in the cavernous area.
Trying to see where we are, I squint as if that will somehow magically give me night vision, relieved when a soft glow appears illuminating our surroundings. The cave seems to be manmade—or Alogorian made. The walls-consist of the same pink-and-gray stone that made up the landing bay.
A mesmerizing blue crystal floats above a central fire pit. I reach out to touch it, only to have Jhyr slap my hand away.
He gives me a severe look and shakes his head. Since I know asking him questions is fruitless, I turn to Niin. “What is that thing?”
“That thing, human is a tash stone. Some call it the yhary stone because it is the stone of life. That stone alone can power an entire village, and is used to power our spacecraft. It’s what is in the mines. And it will also sear the skin off your hand if you touch it.”
“Oh my God, that’s just like the Iron Man blue crystal thingie he has in his chest plate that’s the battery to his suit.”
Niin rolls his eyes, but Jhyr seems intrigued. “You’d totally love that movie,” I tell Jhyr. “Robert Downey Jr. kills it. Wait.” I turn to Niin, concerned. “Do you guys watch movies? Or have TV? I mean, what do you guys do for entertainment?” I know they are pretty primitive, but they do have space ships and database-connected tablets. They aren’t completely without technology.
“I do not know what this is you are talking about, human. And since you broke my communicator in your bout of hizz-star-eeks I cannot identify that answer for you.”
“Oh, good gravy. Are you still in a snit about that?” I swear Niin is worse than Madame Sheba, my nanny who was a retired performing drag queen. T
hough, if you asked her, a queen never retires, she just gets tired of being so damn fabulous all the damn time.
I wonder what ever became of Madame Sheba. I miss her.
Niin glares at me. “I do not know what this sneet is, but I do not have it.” Then pulls out his dagger and whips it at me.
I duck as it sails by, then snap up, sputtering. “What the hell, Niin?” That bastard could have killed me.
He says nothing, just walks toward me, and I shove him away. Not that it does much good. Though slightly leaner, he’s as big as Oathar and Jhyr. “I’m going to tell Oathar you’re already trying to kill his brood mare.” My threat, while childish, is all I’ve got. And sadly, it’s the first thing that pops out of my mouth.
Niin’s chin goes up a notch as he steps past me. I glance over, and he’s picking something up off the ground. “I shall tell my Yon Tor I was only saving your feeble little life, ungrateful human.” He stresses Yon Tor like he’s totally pissed I dared to call Beast Boy by his given name, then holds up a creature the size of a lobster, but with the scary factor of a scorpion. The clear ones that blend with the freaking sand, not the black ones. The tail is long, almost snake-like, but still has an exoskeleton. And instead of a stinger on its tail, it’s on its face.
It’s scorpzilla.
I do the ‘just-walked-through-a-spiderweb dance’ and shudder all over then scan the area around me for any signs of creepy crawlies. Eww, I’m so not going to survive this. Where the hell is Mr. Buy-a-human-and-bring-her-to-the-scorpzilla-infested-desert, anyway?
“You must be aware of your surroundings, human,” Niin says.
The only thing I’m aware of is how much I don’t want to be here. And the fact that Oathar is still out there. Both men are shaking out and laying down bedding as if Oathar isn’t joining us. Outside the storm sounds like it’s nearly directly over us. Despite us being tucked away inside this cavern, my hair is blowing around my face. The wind is a constant howl, the ground shaking with constant lightning strikes.
“Where’s Oathar?” I have to use night club voice to be heard over the wind and thunder.
“You need not worry yourself, human. The Yon Tor is capable.”
“I wasn’t questioning his capability. I want to know if he’s supposed to be here.”
Niin and Jhyr share a concerned glance with each other before Jhyr nods his head once in a stoic manner while Niin avoids eye contact with me. I take that as Oathar was supposed to be here already, and they’re both worried.
“Don’t you think maybe one of you should go out there and make sure he was not struck by lightning?”
“If he has been struck, it is the will of Ghbril.”
“Bullshit.” If he’s stuck it’s because he’s a dumbass for being out in a lightning storm. The wind and thunder is so loud now it’s as if we’re in the center of a tornado that’s vacuuming up all the land around us. And he’s out there in it.
I’m not a big fan of Beast Boy and his intergalactic slave buying ways, but I can’t help worry.
“Fine. If neither of you are going, I’m gonna go out to look for him.”
I’m pulling myself up to the opening but only get my head out before Jhyr lifts me up by the waist and sets me down behind him. He thumps his fist on his chest before patting me on the head. Then, before I can say anything, he’s scrambling out of the opening.
“You’re foolish, human,” Niin says in disgust watching Jhyr’s retreating form.
“And you’re a dick, alien.”
“You’re the alien here.” It’s such a snide comeback, I expect Niin to stick his tongue out.
Pointedly turning away from him, I cross my arms over my chest and face the opening. For long minutes, I stand there, watching. The flat desert land lights up in flashes in front of me. Unease grips my tummy. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent Jhyr out there. What if something happens to him, too, and I’m stuck with no one but Niin?
With that horrifying thought, Jhyr comes flying in. My relief when Oathar quickly follows him in is staggering. And quickly fades as I see Oathar’s angry face. I instinctively take a step back, even though his anger isn’t directed at me.
He has Jhyr pinned to the wall, yelling at him. His speech is too rapid fire, and the roar of the wind and thunder too loud to hear them arguing. When Jhyr points to me, Oathar’s fierce gaze pins me.
Crossing my arms over my chest in a protective manner, I casually avert my gaze from his penetrating stare, focusing my gaze on a spot on the wall. The rocks in Alogoria are quite a nice shade of pastel salmon pink. This color as a nail polish would look amazing on me.
I can sense the exact moment when he’s no longer murdering me with his eyes, and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Oathar turns and pulls a covering closed on the opening of our den. It works to lessen the noise of the storm, and it’s no longer a wind tunnel in here.
Not wanting to attract attention, I don’t move as the men resume shaking out suede-like blankets and making beds on the floor.
Three beds.
I guess I’ll be bunking down with Oathar again, if he’s not going to make me sleep on the ground. Catching a glimpse of the scorpzilla corpse, I shudder.
When Oathar holds his hand out for me, I have to hold back from throwing myself at him and begging him not to leave me alone again. With everything that’s happened, I strangely just want him to wrap me up in his arms. The feeling of safety may be false, but it’s comforting nonetheless. There’s creepy-crawly things and Armageddon on the other side of the stone slabs covering our dugout cave. I’m totally invested in the Protect Me Big Strong Alien camp.
Hell, I was ready and willing to risk myself to make sure he could be around to protect me. The logic may be backward, but it made sense to me.
We stretch out on our nest with a blanket covering us, and I’m surprised to find the ground is radiating warmth. I wonder if that’s by design or a natural occurrence. Niin places his hand on the lip of the fire pit, and the light of the glowing crystal thingy dims out.
Lying in the dark, Oathar wraps his big body around me, and I try to relax. The covering to our cave rattles, and the wind whistles through the crevices. Each crack of lightning directly overhead makes me jump.
I can’t believe the men are falling asleep through this.
Oathar’s breathing is even, but his hold on me tightens every time I startle, so I know he’s awake.
“I am Yon Tor, female.” His lips are right at my ear, so he doesn’t have to raise his voice. But there’s a menacing growl underlying his words. I guess he’s still annoyed with me. “You do not send my men after me as if I’m weak and incapable.”
Men are such jerks. I can’t believe he’s chastising me for caring. My eye roll is completely lost in the dark. “So, next time you’re in danger we leave you to rot. Got it.”
“Your tone suggests you make light of this situation.”
“Wouldn’t want to do that, oh great Yawn Door.” I can’t believe he’s arguing with me right now. My fear of the storm is quickly being drowned out by indignation.
“Bombee,” he growls.
“Oathar,” I snarl right back.
“Tomorrow, you will receive a crafkah, and then you may decide how much you want to defy me.”
“Bring it,” I tell him, turning away from him. I have no idea what a craft-thing is, but I’m too annoyed to hold my tongue. If he wanted a docile female, he shouldn’t have bought my big squishy ass.
Pressing up against me, he says, “I will bhing hit, as you say, my little human.” His accent makes the threat somewhat humorous. Then he pats my bottom ominously before pulling me by the waist until my butt is flush up against him.
My eyes bulge. Is he talking about a spanking? Is the craft-thing a spanking? “You wouldn’t dare,” I say, turning to face him. I swear, even in the dark, I can see the evil grin pulling his lips.
“I’m Yon Tor. I do not darr. I do. And if you behave as a recalcitrant ling y
ou will get a cafkah like one.”
I let out an irritated growl as I flop back onto my side not facing him. Fine. It’s not like he hasn’t swatted my ass before. Folding my arms over my chest, I pinch the arm he has wrapped around me, but he doesn’t even flinch.
Double fine.
If he wants to cuddle, we’ll cuddle.
Moving slowly, I circle my hips back against his groin in a seductive manner.
Making a sound of irritation, he grabs my hip to still me, but it’s too late. The egg launcher has joined the party on high alert. “Female,” he snarls in my ear.
“Yes, Yon Tor?” I smile into the darkness. If I have to sleep uncomfortable and irritated, so does he.
“Female,” he hisses again. “If you do not desist, I will plant my root in you this very moment.” He presses said “root” against my bottom to make his point.
And, indeed, it is pointed.
I squeeze my thighs together. The threat is not nearly as daunting as it should be.
All innocence, I blink in the dark. “However, do you mean?” I add a little Scarlett O’Hara to my voice for the fun of it. I have to hold in my snicker as I settle back down.
“I know not what you play at, but you understand my meaning well enough,” he grumbles, and I almost regret poking him. Especially when he curls himself around me, pulling the blanket up over our shoulders. Careful to tuck it under my chin, so my face isn’t smothered.
Curled up with him, it’s hard to remember I don’t like him.
After a while, the storm dies down, but I still can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Oathar out in the weather. I wonder if he was in any real danger before I sent Jhyr after him. I never got the chance to ask. The thought of him perishing leaves me conflicted. Our short acquaintance has given me no reason to care what happens to him, but I do. He hasn’t mistreated me, though he easily could, and that should count for something.
Also, it says something about his character that his men seem to respect him in all things. I think that if he had died his men would mourn him, as I would mourn Brook and Bri if anything should happen to them.