by Presley Hall
Finally, as I stand dizzily staring down at the aliens, the bidding comes to a halt.
It’s done, I think wearily. Someone won.
And then I see who it is—which alien bid the highest—and I almost vomit.
He looks like a slug with legs, obese beyond even the description of the word, with a massive moon-shaped face, his skin the color of dirty dishwater. His legs barely seem able to hold his bulk as he waddles toward me, every inch of his body draped in fabrics that look expensive. His arms are thin, making the bulk of his body appear even stranger in comparison, and his hands are covered in jeweled rings. I can only imagine how much money he must have just spent on me.
It makes me sick, because I also know what he’s going to expect from his purchase.
The guard returns, grabbing me by the shoulders and forcing me down the stairs on the opposite side of the stage where the slug-like alien is waiting.
As I reach the bottom step, the guard manhandles me into position, turning me toward my new owner and grasping my hair to pull my head back, forcing me to look at the slug-man.
The alien before me grins widely, showing jagged teeth, some of them darkened with some foreign substance. He reaches out, grasping my breast and squeezing hard as his gaze rakes over my body.
The guard gestures toward the shackles, clearly asking if the alien wants them removed. The slug-man shakes his head laboriously, the folds of his jowls wobbling and releasing a stench that’s mixed with a thick perfume. I shrink back, but the guard squeezes my shoulder hard, nodding at the alien and handing him a key.
Desperately, I scan the crowd for the bronzed alien. He didn’t bid on me, not even once. So if he’s not here to buy me, he must be here to rescue me, right?
But he hasn’t moved. He still isn’t looking at me.
Despair floods me as I realize I don’t have a fucking clue as to why he’s actually here—but it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with me. He doesn’t look like he cares about me at all.
The bulbous, slug-like alien grabs my arm, dragging me forward through the slush.
My heart thuds wildly in my chest, crashing against my sternum. I don’t know where he’s taking me, but I know I can’t let him lock me away in another cell. Before we reach his intended destination, I have to try to get away.
It will be my one and only chance of escape.
2
Zhori
My jaw is clenched so tightly that my teeth grind together as I watch the disgusting, massive alien that the auctioneer referred to as Savyiek lead the Terran woman away.
She’s shaking all over, probably from terror as much as the cold, filthy and bedraggled—and still one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
I watched the entirety of the auction, trying to gauge what the best plan would be to free her. I decided finally that my greatest chance for success would be to wait until after she was sold, although the thought of her fear and the sight of her being manhandled and displayed on that stage was almost too much for me to bear.
But I didn’t have much of a choice. Maybe if the rest of the Kalixian squadron was still here, we could have stormed the stage and taken her before she ever set foot on it. But I’m a lone warrior—no matter how fierce of a fighter I am, I’m vastly outnumbered. If I want to get the woman off this planet alive, I have to be more measured and cautious than usual, even if it goes against everything in me.
I have to make the smart choice, even though the urge to fight is burning through my veins, battle-lust burning through me from the sight of the atrocities taking place up on that stage.
Watching that disgusting alien, Savyiek, grope the Terran woman against her will nearly broke my resolve. I saw the grimace on her face, the revulsion and terror in her eyes, and I almost forgot every bit of tactical training I’ve ever had. All I could feel was the urge to gut the alien right then and there.
It would have been a pleasure to see his blood spill out over the filthy slush under his feet. But it likely wouldn’t have saved the woman. She’s not far enough away from the considerable contingent of guards that the auction quarter has assembled yet.
As Savyiek leads the woman away from the crowd, I follow at a safe distance, staying just far enough back to not look suspicious while still keeping them in my line of sight. I’m itching for a fight, my blood thundering through my veins, but I keep a leash on my rage—just barely, promising myself it’ll be time soon enough.
The bulbous alien has several bodyguards with him, surrounding him and the woman. He’s obviously one of the wealthiest inhabitants of the city of Tanu. The amount he spent on the Terran woman was both impressive and disgusting.
I follow them down the street, taking carefully measured steps and preparing for the right time to make my move. As we get farther and farther away from the auction quarter, leaving only Savyiek’s six bodyguards to contend with, I tense. Any moment now, when we get closer to a deserted street with plenty of alleyways, I’ll attack.
But before I can lunge forward, the woman suddenly spins in Savyiek’s grasp.
She’s been plodding dutifully along next to him, head down, looking every bit the part of the cowed and frightened slave. It clearly made him drop his guard, because he freezes as she throws her knee up, catching him in the groin. Then she lifts her wrists sharply, whipping the length of the chain hard into his face.
He reels backward, but there are still six bodyguards against the one woman.
She ducks, slinging her chain toward another of them as she goes to kick him in the groin too, but she’s not very physically strong—weak and malnourished from her time as a prisoner—and clearly not trained to fight. Already, swinging the heavy chain seems to be tiring her out.
I leap forward, springing at the guard who’s dragging her away from Savyiek. She’s too focused on her captor to notice me, biting wildly at his hand and scrabbling in the snow as she tries to get free.
She’s like a little wild animal, feral and furious, clawing and hissing in her rage. Her blue eyes sparkle with fury as I stab the guard holding her in the arm, causing him to let loose a string of curses and release her.
The moment she’s free, she whirls toward me instinctively, attacking me in the same way she flew at the guards.
She catches me off guard, kneeing me hard in the balls in the same way that she did to Savyiek. I grunt and bend forward, instinctively reaching to grasp myself as she darts away from me, her feet slipping on the slush and snow.
All five of Savyiek’s remaining guards come for me at once, and I recover immediately, forgetting all about the throbbing pain in my groin as I draw both of my weapons and prepare to fight them off. I see the Terran woman running away from them as I fight, but I’m too distracted to watch her. Five against one isn’t great odds, but I’ve faced worse. I’ll need all of my concentration to win this battle, though.
The bodyguards seem almost taken aback by the fact that I’m not frightened of them. They clearly expected the uneven odds to make me back down, but I attack fiercely, moving through the familiar motions of battle as I fend them off.
I even grin cockily at one as I bring my sword hilt down on the back of one’s head, kicking him hard in the stomach and sending him flying into a half-melted snowdrift that’s yellow with some animal’s urine.
“You’ll smell better now!” I shout at him, laughing grimly as I manage to incapacitate two more.
Savyiek, the coward, flees down another street as I battle with his bodyguards. Within moments, I’ve dealt with the remainder of the men. I don’t kill any of them; I don’t need that kind of attention brought down on my head. Hopefully, by the time they regain consciousness, I’ll be long gone with the Terran woman.
But as I turn in the direction of where I last saw her, I realize she’s nowhere to be seen. She took her chance and made a break for it—and I’ve completely lost track of where she is.
I clench my jaw hard, grinding my teeth together. I have to find her, and fa
st.
She might be free of the alien who bought her, but in a place like this, she’s definitely not safe.
3
Brooke
My breath comes in short gasps as I run headlong through the streets, my wrists still chained in the shackles.
I don’t stop, not even when I trip over potholes in the road or loose stones. Panting and exhausted, I regain my balance and keep running. Strange and threatening-looking aliens stare at me as I race past, some of them calling out in words I can’t understand.
No one tries to catch me, but I know it’ll only be a matter of time. I can’t exactly check into an inn or go to the port like this. I’m an escaped slave still in chains, basically in my nightgown, dirty and clearly on the run.
My heart is beating so fast that it hurts, pounding in my chest until I feel as if it might burst through my sternum or just give out. I duck down alleys and streets with no idea where I’m going and no sense of direction at all.
For all I know, I might be going in circles, and I realize in a sudden rush of terror just how completely fucked I am.
I might have gotten away from that awful slug of an alien, but where am I supposed to go now? What does “escape” mean when I’m stuck on an alien planet where I don’t speak the language, in chains, with no money and nowhere to go for help?
With no answers to those questions, I keep running headlong down the street I’m on. It’s a narrow lane between run-down buildings that look like they’ve seen better days, and I have some hope that it’ll be easier to stay hidden in this dilapidated part of the city.
But as I sprint at breakneck speed, I plow directly into a pair of massive, unfriendly looking aliens with bull-like noses and red fur covering their arms and chests. Before they can snatch me, I dart away, skidding in the snow as I turn down the street to my right.
As I run down the new street, I realize I’m headed straight for a small, dark alleyway at the edge of the city wall.
I veer into the alley, looking frantically around, grateful that I’m at least in shadow. As I look down, I notice a small gap in the wall, almost like a storm grate at the base of it. The bars that once covered the little opening are broken, leaving enough space that I just might be able to wiggle through it.
Outside, I can see the snow piled up in massive drifts, not cleared away from the main streets the way it is in the city. I’ll be digging my way into a snowdrift, but I hardly care. I have to get out of this city.
Holding my breath, I wriggle my way through the opening in the wall an inch at a time until I tumble out into the snow.
As I stagger to my feet, a whole new kind of fear grips me. The city is terrifying and dangerous, but it’s populated and has shelter and food, if only I could figure out how to look less like an escaped slave and how to access those things. Out here, it’s flat, bleak, and covered in snow—a barren wilderness with hardly any trees and only endless tundra.
I instantly want to slip back through the wall into the city, but I can’t risk being found and caught.
The space I crawled through looks very much like a drain though, and that means there are probably others along the city walls. If I keep walking the perimeter, maybe I can find a way back in somewhere far away from here. Someplace where the slug-like alien’s guards won’t know to look.
I start to trudge along the city wall, arms wrapped around myself as I begin shivering harder than ever. I walk as quickly as I can, but it’s slow going. The snow is up to my ankles and nearly to my knees in some places.
My skin goes numb, occasional flashes of pain sparking along my nerves as the cold sets in. I know I don’t have long to get back into the city and find some kind of warmth before I start risking real injury—maybe even death from the weather conditions. The slip and thin slippers I’m wearing offer no protection from the elements at all. The chains are ice cold too, making me wince and shiver every time they shift against my skin.
I try to go faster, pushing through the pain and exhaustion and freezing cold as I look for a new place to get back into the city.
I’m so busy looking for another hole in the wall big enough for me to slide through that I’m not watching where I’m going. It doesn’t seem all that necessary—it’s all just endless snow.
But then I take a step and feel cold metal beneath my foot.
Before I can yank my foot back, before I can breathe or think or do anything at all, I hear the squeal of a rusted spring and then a loud snapping sound.
Searing, blinding pain shoots through my entire body, starting in my shin and burning across every nerve. I think I hear myself scream, but I can’t be sure. I can’t process anything beyond the horrible pain as I pitch to the side, scrabbling at the snow with my chained hands to try to free myself from whatever I’ve stepped in.
Horror washes over me as I realize what’s happened.
I’ve stepped into some kind of trap. It looks like a bear trap, obviously meant for whatever kind of alien predators roam the barren wilderness outside the city. My leg is caught, the teeth of the trap clamped shut around it, and I bare my teeth as I grab both sides and try to pry it open.
But the cold metal doesn’t budge.
It would take someone much stronger than me to get this trap open, someone with leverage, and my numb and failing hands can’t manage it.
Pain shoots through me every time I move, and I can see the white splinter of bone through my torn flesh. My leg is broken, and I’m bleeding a lot.
Fuck. Too much.
The snow around the trap is stained bright red, the color slowly spreading like a flower blossoming. My head swims, and the world seems to blur around me. The pain, cold, and blood loss are all coming together to form a perfect storm that I realize dimly is going to be the death of me.
This is how it’s going to end—millions of miles from home, on a frozen alien planet, a chained slave bleeding to death in the snow.
This is how it ends.
I feel tears streaming down my face, freezing on my cheeks as I keep pulling weakly at the trap, trying to get myself free. But it’s no use. My hands and arms are giving out, the blood loss and pain too much for my already weakened body to handle. I collapse backward in the snow, the edges of my vision darkening as I suck in ragged, faltering breaths.
Not like this, I think, my thoughts already growing fuzzy and indistinct. Please, not like this. I’m not ready to die.
The blinding white landscape around me flickers and dims as I slowly lose consciousness. I come to briefly in between moments of blackness, feeling as if I’m caught in a fever dream. I’m almost grateful for the darkness when it draws me under entirely, because at least there’s no pain or cold. I feel like I’m drifting in a sea of black.
And then, suddenly, I’m ripped out of that warm floating sensation by a blinding pain that shoots through my leg.
My entire body feels as if it’s been set aflame, and my leg burns with agony as if something is chewing at it, ripping at the already torn flesh. The pressure around my shin lets up, as if the teeth of the trap have been pulled out of it, but it doesn’t lessen the pain.
I cry out, a sound that’s meant to be a scream but in reality isn’t much more than a small whimper.
A deep voice rumbles above me. I can’t understand the words, but it sounds soothing, almost comforting.
I’m dying, I think hazily. Maybe I’m hallucinating.
The voice soothes me a little despite the pain, and I go lax in the snow again, my head lolling to one side. I vaguely feel as if I’m floating again, being lifted up into the air, and then I pass out once more.
When I have another flicker of consciousness, I’m aware of moving forward, as if someone is carrying me. I have the sensation of being cradled against a broad chest, warm almond-scented skin against my cheek. I nestle into the embrace without thinking.
Warmth surrounds me, like a blanket or a coat wrapped around my body, and I hear more words murmured above me that I can’t understand.<
br />
I don’t know if I’m dreaming or not, if I’m already dead or in some kind of limbo, and I can’t pull my thoughts together enough to figure it out. But I feel strangely safe, as if everything is okay after all, and I dimly think that if this is dying, maybe it’s not so bad.
Maybe it’s better, after all. At least I feel peaceful and warm.
That’s the last thought I have before the darkness closes in again, and I pass out entirely.
4
Zhori
I watch the Terran woman carefully as I carry her back into the city, wrapped in my coat.
It’s a good deshing thing I was able to track her and disguise my own footsteps enough to not be followed, I think darkly.
She was trapped when I found her, bleeding out into the snow. From the look of her, if I’d arrived even a minute or two later, she would have been dead. She’s on the edge as it is, and I know I need to move fast if I’m going to save her. She’s half-frozen and has lost far too much blood.
I hold her a little more tightly in my arms at that thought.
Her body feels so small and limp in my arms. She’s beautiful even now, but she looks so fragile like this. Her face is frighteningly pale, and I walk faster as I look down at her, the fear that she’ll die before I can get her to help rising up in me more sharply than ever.
She’s brave and daring. I couldn’t help but admire the way she jumped at Savyiek and was fierce enough to try to take on all of his bodyguards, but she’s obviously not trained in any kind of fighting. She was desperate, and that’s what sent her running into the wilderness.
In the end, that just made her situation worse.
The city of Tanu is dangerous, but the area outside of it is much more so. During our recon for the rescue mission, we learned of predators that roam outside the city walls—hulking, fur-covered beasts with teeth as long as my forearm and claws to match.