by Stella Sky
I shrugged, pre-annoyed. “She seemed pretty happy to me.”
We made our way into the thicket: a dense wood that sprawled on for miles. It was in here that we were first able to lose the creatures: shake them from us long enough to catch a breath. But that was a long time ago.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked quickly.
“Just what I said.”
Baxley sighed. “Will you stop bein’ snippy and give me a straight answer, for once? You’re the biggest pain in my ass.”
“You love it,” I teased. “B, we have to talk.”
“What, you breakin’ up with me, kid?”
I smiled his way, but neither of us picked up on the conversation offer. We had an odd relationship. Not only for commander and soldier, but for me being twenty-two and Baxley a cool fifty-five.
At first, I thought of him like a… not father. But like a plucky uncle. One that always had great stories and seemed to run into the zaniest people. But by the time I turned seventeen, I began having different feelings toward him. I went through a crisis then. An, ‘if this is all there is, why not?’ phase where I rebelled.
I rebelled within a rebellion, and it looked a whole lot like me sneaking into Baxley’s trailer—that’s where we hide, by the way: an abandoned trailer park on the outskirts of town—and kissing him deeply even as he protested.
Out of either instinct or routine, we both crouched for cover, hearing a distant hum that neither of us could identify as being close or far away.
Baxley drew his gun and traced it along the dark thicket, and I followed suit. We stayed deathly silent then until the hum disappeared for certain.
“When I said Karen looked happy,” I began again, “I meant… she was kissing that thing.”
“Rape?” Baxley asked in a furious whisper, his brows drawing together in confusion.
“He didn’t have her sprawled out on the sidewalk,” I offered in a tone that might as well have been a shrug.
“You know what I mean,” he warned.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
Karen had a theory about the aliens, these Vithohn, that I found disturbing. I’d spent nearly my whole life fighting them. Learning to trap them. Taking cues from Baxley on how to handle myself in a militia. My father was part of Baxley’s militia, and when he died, Baxley took me under his wing. I was cocking guns since I was eight.
To me, the aliens were the ultimate enemy.
But Karen… she had different ideas about them. About ways to control them: change them.
“I’m not leavin’ her,” Baxley said suddenly, stoic.
“Then you’re risking your own life, not mine,” I argued, traipsing further into the wilds. “I’m not going back there.”
“She’s our second in command,” he snapped.
“And you’re first in command, so deal!”
Baxley didn’t like being our commander; he didn’t like others thinking he was in a position of authority. It was all a moot point, anyhow, since everyone revered and respected him. Everyone went to him when we needed someone to tell us how to survive.
“Fine,” the dark-haired man seethed through gritted teeth. “Then as commander, I say we’re going back!”
“B, trust me, she wants to be there.”
Baxley’s eyes darted back and forth from mine in a fury, and he grabbed my arm: the second time he’d ever been aggressive with me. The first time was when I kissed him that first time; he’d shoved me back and grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me. Then he kissed me again, just to be sure it was wrong.
Before he had the chance to scold me, a crashing came down hard in the distance; tree branches thudded to the ground in a sure signal that we’d been spotted.
I waited to see what Baxley’s play would be: steely silence and an excellent hiding place or pure panic and run. He chose the latter.
We took off, shooting in opposite directions as the Vithohn let out a terrifying shriek. Baxley had just enough time to make eye contact with me to let me know I would be used as bait this time.
The air went warm; even in the cold, the alien’s diamond textured, snake-like skin drew a heat to the surrounding area and I knew he was close.
I dug my spiked boot into the ground and spun on it, running left, breathing in the sharp winter air and feeling it hit my lungs like daggers.
Swerving west, I had a jolt bump up in my stomach as I felt the smooth grip of the creature against my leg. My heart thumped against my chest, and I just managed to get away from his grasp, plucking my leg from his grip like I was watching myself from afar.
I heard Baxley fire off his weapon, probably aware that the thing was getting a little too close to me and I fired back, smoking the Vithohn in his thick arm and watching as his self-induced force field sparked up instinctively.
“Come here, asshole!” I yelled
I goaded him toward me, watching my feet as they danced on tiptoes to avoid our carefully dug holes.
Suddenly, I realized he wasn’t alone, but the two other sets of footsteps shrank back as we all watched the smooth, tight-faced creature rocket down beneath a shallow covering of leaves: a thin façade of ground covering, one of our carefully calculated traps.
My militia had dug holes around here; a drippy pink acid we concocted set in pools of thick plastic that would hopefully be good enough to roast off a limb or two. Anything to keep them on unstable footing would work fine for me, especially now.
I couldn’t help but bellow a small laugh as the creature went splashing down below into the bubbling acid, unable to activate his shield.
The creature emitted a piercing, rhythmic sound that sent the hairs on my neck shooting upward. I gritted my teeth, wondering if it might be a war cry and that I was totally screwed.
I looked down in the pit and watched as the taupe-skinned foreigner thrashed around and grabbed the side of the pit, attempting to pull himself up.
Cocking my gun, I laid a bullet into the alien’s face and watched as his flesh parted against the slug before collapsing into the pink depths and dissolving.
I crouched quickly, flattening my body against the frozen ground as I heard the other footsteps nearing.
“Where is he?” the Vithohn alien seethed. He had the same taupe skin and a large head, bald, that came back into a rounded point. His bone structure was harsh and chiseled; a wide-bridged nose and brown eyes that were always shrouded in blackness; his armor glowing with blue lines that scattered along black fabric.
“I can’t be sure,” the female said—whispered.
Her voice was familiar: human. I instantly recognized her as Tiffany Caites. Our communications officer. Looks like she was communicating just fine.
The Vithohn looked around the forest furtively. “You said there are traps.”
“Oh yeah,” she said, almost laughing. “We didn’t leave an inch.”
“That’s comforting,” the creature said with a quick lower of the brow: his tone almost comical in nature.
I swallowed hard, unfamiliar with the Vithohn being anything but mindlessly aggressive. I didn’t even know they could talk, I was so unaccustomed to their ability to converse. Now here he was being… sarcastic? Playful?
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, putting his arm around Tiffany protectively.
“What about Dreicant?” she asked, leaning into him.
I assumed they meant the alien I’d just smoked.
The man looked around, sniffed the air, and the dismissed her.
“He chose his own fate,” he said.
“We could help him,” Tiffany said in her childlike tone: feminine and soft-spoken. “Karen is here now; she led our science team.”
The man laughed, surprised. “There’s that many of you, is there?”
Tiffany shrugged into him, and I peered up through the grass just long enough to see the alien’s face turn sour: saddened somehow. His large eyes seemed to slope down as though he’d been disappointed, though by her
, by the humans making it out alive, or by his friend’s death, I couldn’t be sure.
My former crewmate, the long-haired brunette, stepped up on her toes and grabbed both of the creature’s hands, bringing them in-between their bodies before offering him a sweet, soft kiss. He met her halfway, and I nearly recoiled.
I began to shiver then and decided I’d seen enough. I longed to be back at my trailer-park, back in the safety of the militia, of Baxley.
My boots hit the leaves in a sharp sloshing noise, and I knew instantly I’d moved too quickly; I froze in place, crouching back down as Tiffany and her alien partner began to look around with weapons drawn.
They began walking away from one another, slowly, to cover more land, and as the creature met my eyes, I felt my stomach drop.
My hand shook against my gun, and I looked up at him, big eyes bugging out.
“You see anything?” Tiffany called, pulling back the hammer on her weapon, just in case.
He looked down at me, just four or five feet away, and we exchanged a long stare. I knew he saw me because his eyes roved across my entire body before locking on my eyes.
Then his wide lips parted, and he said, “Nothing here.”
Chapter Two
Tessoul
I had been walking in the forests for what felt like hours now, and I hated these human forests.
The cities I was fond of—or what was left of them after our attack. We’d been here for decades now and yet still hadn’t thought of a way to rebuild.
My legs were tired and numb, and the cold was intensely bitter, even though the white fluffs hadn’t fallen or stayed. I felt a creek up my left arm and bellowed out a loud sigh, looking over at my associate Araxis with an eye roll.
My Vithohn friend had a wide-set red face and three yellow membranes that cascaded vertically on his forehead; purple eyes glowed and a deep bone protruded from his brow bone like tusks. He had grabbed a stick a while back and was swinging it from back to front, the two of us listening to its whipping noises as it hit the wind.
“Giving up?” he offered, sounding just as bored as I did of the search.
I watched the rabbits that flopped and pounced along the forest trails: chubby and fluffy and always in my way.
“Just about,” I said back.
I mentally decided that I would give it another ten steps before giving up on our missing friend. Unfortunately, or fortunately for me, within those few steps, we spotted a glowing pool blistering with heat in the distance.
“What’s that smell?” Araxis asked, plugging his nose with his fingers.
“Oh, isn’t that just pleasant,” I said, fighting off the urge to gag.
Dreicant, or bits of what was left of him, floated in the unsavory pink pool; rats and other woodland creatures were swimming in the water, victims of its strange acidic properties.
I stepped back and covered my nose with my forearm, recoiling at the sight and smell of it. It was like a sewage tunnel: a thick swamp of one of our best warriors.
“You think it was the humans?” Araxis asked, following suit and backing away from the pit.
“Well, it wasn’t a bunny,” I snapped.
A fury welled up in me, bumping through my veins like I couldn’t believe. My hands began to shake, and I started to wonder how many more pits were out there like this, waiting to consume our flesh. How many humans were still out there?
I knew there was a reason why I hated forests.
Rage boiled against me, and I scraped my sharp teeth against my fat bottom lip, seething against the idea that a human not only invaded our camp, but outsmarted one of us. Why didn’t Dreicant use his force field? It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t understand how they got to him,” Araxis breathed, rubbing his temples with two fingers.
“We need to find them, those humans that are left and swarming around our cities like locusts. We need revenge for this!” I demanded.
My anger bubbled into my throat, and my body needed a release that I couldn’t give it, the fury coming through in heavy breaths. As our armored boots met the pavement of the city street, finally out of that forsaken forest, I bent over and set my hands on my thighs, heaving my breaths.
When I managed to calm myself down, I cocked my head toward Araxis, still hunched over, and I spat, “How are you not outraged?”
Araxis seemed lost; his eyes were elsewhere as he continued to walk. I chased after him and insisted, “How does your body not cry out for the blood of your brother?”
The red Vithohn sighed and continued to walk. Looking at me with some sadness in his expression, he said, “He was my brother, yes. Of course, I want to avenge him.” He repeated, “Of course I do.”
My eyes went wide as I watched my once-closest ally move toward a half-shredded skyscraper that looked over our whole city; it was half lit with what remained of Earth’s energy.
I could feel the skin of my eyes hit my brow bone as they shot up, watching him ascend a small staircase up from the shattered building’s courtyard.
A woman, human, stepped into view, and he set his hands on her thick waist. She had light hair that was short, cut to her chin, and thick bangs that hid her brows. Axaris told us he’d stolen her from a human pack: that she was something important to them. It was beyond me why he didn’t kill her then and there.
Instead, she was still in our base and causing trouble. This was the second troupe of humans who had come to find her. Except this time they murdered one of our own in the process.
“Tessoul,” she said coldly to regard me.
I blinked, but said nothing, simply cocking my head to the side and feeling my turbulent rage building up again.
Karen was her name, and she nestled into the crook of Araxis’ arm as we walked back to base, still miles away.
“Are you alright?” she asked in a softer tone then, reaching her pink hand up to Araxis’ long face.
“Dreicant was taken by the humans,” my leader said.
Her brows perked, though I couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or a delighted interest as she asked, “Dead?”
He nodded, and my thoughts were confirmed as an amused, hidden smile crept up the side of her mouth.
I inhaled sharply and gritted my teeth at the sight of it. Araxis noticed my attention and leaned into Karen, mistaking the close proximity for privacy.
“How many are there?” he asked in a whisper.
“I told you,” she chided. “Just a couple; a handful at most.”
Araxis looked down at his hand and then up at her quizzically, and she laughed, and then he smiled, and I felt a familiar anger at their flirtation.
One of our men just died, and our glorious general, our Voth, was playing coochie-coo with some human monster as she laughed about it.
“Five?” Karen relented with a smirk. “Six?”
“Are they coming here?” he asked, and she shook her head, nuzzling into his chest and tilting her head down, walking in unison with him.
“No, my love,” she said.
The two spent the walk talking, and I purposely slowed my steps so I didn’t have to walk with them anymore.
Araxis mated with her. I knew this not only because he’d shared it with me, but because I’d heard them on a number of occasions. Her strange noises offered through the walls as a slap in the face: a mockery of our dead. Now we were letting one of them
We fought for this land, and Araxis was disregarding it all. He’d lost his will to fight; he was a slave to the girl.
The red Vithohn was my friend and the leader of our team, so I had kept quiet about it, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for much longer.
“What do we do now?” I heard him whisper to the girl, rubbing up her arm as she shivered against the cold.
“I want to leave,” she pleaded.
Leave us, she meant. What sickened me most was that it seemed Araxis was actually considering it.
“I can’t be without you,” he s
aid desperately, touching her face.
My stomach turned.
“They don’t like me,” Karen said softly, turning her head to make direct eye-contact with me. I raised a brow to let her know her assumptions were accurate: a warning. “They want to kill me,” she continued.
Araxis let out a small ‘humph’ and then said, “Then they go through me.”
We got back to our base within a few hours: a large military space station with six different wings sprouting out from the center building like spider legs. While some of the Vithohn had taken up in skyscrapers, the majority of us preferred to stay in the space station. It gave us a direct line to all things tech, military, bedrooms, and most of all, food.
As the three of us entered a spacious metal warehouse, Karen and Araxis quickly paired off from me and began talking at one of the warehouse’s various stations. Large pilotable machines were arrayed at raised platforms, eight in all, and the couple quickly walked to one of the lifts.
They pretended as though they were going to board the robot fighter, but I knew they simply wanted their privacy from me.
The ceilings of the building were atrociously tall and made me feel cold and small. I followed the bright yellow lines on the floor and watched as the various stations heated up with an exhale of smoke.
Nazaarad approached me with a smile and set a thick hand on my shoulder.
“How did it go?” he asked, and I shot him an unimpressed look. “That bad?”
“He’s dead,” I dismissed, my eyes now fixated on Araxis and Karen in the distance.
Nazaarad’s face fell then: the same fury that had overtaken me apparent, flowing up from his feet and into his gut. I could see it hit his middle as his fists clenched uncontrollably.
“Is that so?” he enunciated and then suddenly a calm washed over him; concern replacing his tense brows. “And Araxis? How’s he doing?”
I pointed to the couple coupling on the platform and snipped, “Just fine.”
Nazaarad had a smooth skull that sloped back into a rounded point with a large spire that fell limply from the base of his neck. We looked like brothers, so always acted as such: both born with a pale tan skin and green hues that created a gradient along our foreheads. Tall and broad, my younger ‘brother’ was just shorter than me now.