At the center of the camp were several large fires around which men were lying about, passed out in a drunken stupor. The central fire had a carcass hanging above the flames. The stench of burnt, fatty meat made her want to vomit. There was no wild or feral game sufficiently large enough to feed large numbers of people. The cattle had been exhausted long before people took to eating cats and dogs. Terri didn’t need to guess to know what they had consumed. The remains, from what she could see, appeared to be a small human no bigger than an adolescent or petite woman. She couldn’t tell if it had been male or female at one time, but it no longer mattered. She only hoped that the victim had died painlessly before being gutted and spitted.
Bedlam nosed at a broken bottle before raising his long, pointed muzzle and sniffing the air. His long ears tipped toward the fire. He whined and made a move toward the carcass but halted at her sharp, whispered command. “Bedlam, no! Come!”
Although the kid was beyond knowing that an alien dog would have been chewing on their carcass, she couldn’t stomach the idea of her companion filling his belly with human flesh. Not that the dozens of Reapers lying about the fire wasn’t enough of a reason to stay far away from it. Bedlam sighed and continued to pace, sniffing the air.
She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the northeastern corner of the central camp, looking for any sign of where they might keep a huge, scary-as-fuck alien. Her eyes eventually fell on a tall metal pole a few yards away near several torches. Hooked to it was a huge mass of chains facing the fire. The way the shadows fell, she couldn’t get a good look at it, but the entire area around there was littered with broken bottles. She wasn’t entirely certain if that was what she was looking for until Bedlam slipped through the shadows, heading directly for it.
Sand shifted under her feet as she headed toward the dark mass. She had one bad moment when a Reaper suddenly bolted upright beside where she stepped, his glazed eyes staring right at her before he slumped over again. Muttering under her breath, Terri edged closer to her destination.
Jackpot! She could barely make out the outline of the massive alien in the dark but she recognized the vague features. With a silent whoop, Terri crept around the unconscious body, studying the chains holding it down. She pinched her lips together. The padlocks were going to take some work. She had cutters back at her current bolt-hole but hadn’t wanted to risk being burdened with it while trying to sneak about the Reaper camp.
Studying the chains, she followed them back to where they were clipped onto the pole. Good fortune smiled on her. It seemed that the paranoid motherfuckers had wrapped the alien in chains before attaching it to the pole, using only simple metal clips to secure it. Leaning her body against the alien’s to provide some slack, she unclipped it.
The chained body fell forward against her and her knees shook with strain under the sudden weight. Heating the air with every whispered curse she could think of, Terri finally laid it flat on the ground. Pushing back upright, she scrutinized it as Bedlam circled nervously. One thing was certain: there was no way she was going to carry the unconscious alien out of the camp. She would have to drag it out.
With another muttered oath, Terri picked up the end of one heavy chain and yanked. Her arms protested as the body inched across gravel and sand. She only got a few feet before her lungs and arms began to burn painfully. She felt the sting of tears and blinked them back.
This wasn’t working. Dropping the chain, she leaned over and gasped for air. Chains aside, how was it so fucking heavy? Dragging it out of the compound seemed almost impossible. Massaging her hands, Terri picked up the chain again. She barely started to tug when Bedlam appeared beside her and took another chain in its mouth. With a low growl, he pulled with far more power than she had on her own, dragging the body forward.
“Good boy,” she whispered. Gently, she steered him away from the central fires, back into the deep shadows of the camp as they headed for the gates.
It was slow going, not only by design but also by need. No matter how much she wanted to rush out of the camp, she forced herself to keep a slow, steady pace, watching for any sign of Reapers. At one point, she stopped and gathered up the strange tentacles that were dragging on the ground. About as thick as ropes, they were warm, supple, and dry, textured from the tiny scales all over them like those on Bedlam’s head. These, however, had tiny bulges running down the lower lengths like the end of a rattlesnake’s tail. She recalled the way they had seemed to rattle with a strange, cacophonic hiss. The memory alone was enough to make her almost yank her hand away. Resolutely, she kept them gathered in her hand as they pulled the alien’s unconscious body along.
By the time they neared the perimeter, the camp had settled into what she suspected was a near comatose state. Even the sounds of sex had died down to the occasional whimper until that, too, faded into exhaustion. Even with Bedlam’s help, Terri’s arms burned like hellfire by the time they made it back to the perimeter. She glanced at a pair of fresh skulls, still oozing with gore, before escaping the barrier.
She wouldn’t miss Phoenix when she got her ride out. If the alien cooperated, that was.
By the time she arrived at her hiding place, she felt she had more than earned safe passage. It took hours of dragging to get the enormous alien all the way back to her hiding place. Although Bedlam did most of the work, she was exhausted, sore, and covered in sweat in the chill desert air. The alien had been dead weight the entire time. Not once did it even so much as twitch. Abandoning it in the center of the room, Terri built a small fire in what remained of the hearth and threw herself on a dusty sofa. She stared at it bleakly before rousing herself enough to drag her tool bag close.
Rummaging around in the canvas, it didn’t take her long to find her bolt cutters. The fact that the alien hadn’t woken at all at any point during their travel didn’t give her much hope for reviving it. Still, she had to try, and the first step was getting the chains off so the alien no longer looked trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Not that she had ever had one… but the pictures in the old books and ads had looked appetizing enough.
Eyeing the locks, she counted them and shook her head. Five locks, each securing a thick chain in place—a bit overkill if anyone asked her. They really wanted to make sure it didn’t go anywhere. She cocked her head and stared down at the alien. “I wonder what exactly they thought you were going to do that couldn’t be stopped with one or two chains?”
Naturally, it didn’t respond. She shrugged. Oh, well. She might as well get to work.
Bedlam whined and stuck his nose in the way as he nudged at the alien. She gently pushed him back and wiped her sweaty palms on her pant legs before gripping the cutters firmly in both hands. The first lock was the worst. It was the shiniest one and resisted her attempts to cut through it. Groaning with exertion, she put all her body weight into it until the metal separated with a horribly loud chink. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she scooted to the next lock, methodically moving from one lock to the next until all the locks lay scattered around the body.
The chains were another matter. They were twisted and kinked, forcing her to drag them off the alien one at a time, her feet digging into the matted carpet for leverage, cursing the Reapers for the headache they had made for her. By the time the last chain fell free, she wanted to sing her thanks to the gods above. It landed on the floor with a dull thunk as she let it go to rub the feeling back into her hands.
Fingers still trembling, she dug through her bag and pulled out a small bottle of oil and a tiny clay lamp. A twisted bit of an old shirt lay inside of it to serve as a wick. Although she used the lamp sparingly to conserve oil, she considered this an appropriate occasion while she attempted to assess the condition of the alien lying prone before her. She filled the lamp with a small portion of oil and struck a match. The wick soon caught fire and burned brightly, illuminating the bulk in front of her.
Leaning forward, she brushed back the mass of tentacles. The face revealed was broad and struck he
r as rather masculine with its square features. A cluster of small horns ran around its brow, leading up to another row of small horns that formed a crest. From the center of that, a ridge ran down, bisecting its forehead, and sloped into a broad, almost flat nose hooked with three small horns. To her surprise, the alien had a wide, human-like mouth, although not far from the corners of its lips, there were tiny hooks from serrated mandibles on its square jaw.
She leaned closer to get a better look at the mandibles when glowing blue eyes popped open and the silvery circuitry along its skin pulsed with light. Terri gasped and probably would have screamed except that its wide hand had shot up with dizzying speed and latched around her throat. The alien lifted her into the air as it got to its feet, its fingers lightly squeezing in warning as it rattled at her.
Her fingers scrambled for purchase on its strong hands as she stared down into the hellish hot blue fire of its eyes. Her eyes watered as she struggled to gasp for breath.
“Please,” she wheezed.
A low growl erupted to her left and her eyes shifted downward. She couldn’t crane her head to get a proper look, but she was able to make out the top of Bedlam’s head as he bristled, his thin whips churning around him. The alien restraining her cocked its head to the side as it regarded its animal and uttered a confused rumble before barking out a sharp command and pointing to its feet. Bedlam whined uncertainly and glanced at her.
Blue eyes narrowed, the barely visible slit pupils focusing on her. It rumbled as it cocked its head again, this time at her. Its eyes drifted down her form and then back up again. It made a sound almost like a disgusted sigh and released her, dropping her unceremoniously to the floor. Terri wheezed as the impact took her breath away, and she spent several minutes gasping for air before she slowly sat up. Rubbing at her neck, she studied the alien quietly. It didn’t kill her, so that was a step in the right direction. Instead, it sat on the broken edge of a wall, busy with self-inspection. It swung its head around as if looking for something, its mouth pulling down into a frown.
“My blaster—where is it?” it growled in a raspy voice.
Terri’s mouth dropped open. It spoke English? How…? “Uh, I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t see anything near you when I took you out of the Reaper camp.”
“Reaper,” it muttered and grunted with a sound that was close to mirthful. Its eyes focused on her again. “Are you a Reaper too, little female?”
The way it dragged the last word made her shiver. “No,” she whispered. “I would never be one of them.”
Its expression became calculating. In her experience, that expression never boded well for her. She hastened to introduce herself. “My name is Terri.”
It shifted and leaned forward. “Why?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Why did you, a female,” its lip seemed to curl at the mention of her sex, “go into territory not your own to retrieve me from the males?”
Terri saw no reason to hide the truth. “Because there’s no escaping the Reapers in this city, and it’s a very long way to another settlement. I want out of here.”
A light of understanding dawned in the alien’s eyes, and it made a chuffing sound that she suspected was laughter. It leaned closer, showing a hint of fangs as it spoke. “You desire protection.”
She did not deny it. “I do. Bedlam is good protection, but even he can’t save me from the Reapers if I can’t get out of the city fast enough.”
“Bedlam?”
She gestured to the animal, and again the alien chuffed.
“Good name,” he snorted. “Bedlam, anarchy, chaos, mayhem. All translations provided in my systems would be suitable for a dorashnal. He, however, is Krono.”
Krono scampered to the alien’s side eagerly at the mention of his name.
Terri scooted closer, her curiosity getting the better of her. “How is it that you speak my language?”
The alien flicked a finger toward a place just in front of his ear. “Translator implant. My vessel downloaded your language files from your satellites. It proved useful when the males attempted their torture. My nanos have been learning, even when my body was forced to sleep. Learning about the Reapers and building up my resistance to their methods of caging me.” Again, it chuffed with its eerie laughter. The alien didn’t seem to think much of the Reapers’ attempts to torture it. Its tone conveyed no little amount of mockery if she was interpreting it correctly. Had it just been waiting for an opportune moment to attack?
“You didn’t need my help then,” she observed.
“I did not,” it agreed, tilting its head toward her.
An ember of hope lit inside of her. It might work to her benefit if she kept it curious and interested in her. It had little use for her otherwise. She licked her lips nervously. “Will you help me?”
It jerked its head away and growled. Her nerves tingled as if stuck with pins, but she resisted the urge to scramble away in fear. It wasn’t acting aggressively toward her. Her only enemy at the moment was her natural fight-or-flight instinct when faced with an obviously superior predator. The tentacle whips around its head swelled. “I am here to salvage, nothing more. This planet was not supposed to be inhabited by a living civilization.”
Terri snorted. “Well, in all fairness, it’s not really a civilization any longer. All that’s left on Earth are scattered settlements and a few roaming caravans. A few tribal groups have managed to survive from what I’ve been told. I don’t know. I’ve never been outside Phoenix. I’m not sure if it is any better on other parts of the planet, but I suspect not. From what my grandparents told me, our series of World Wars pretty much wiped us out, even those who tried to remain uninvolved.”
The alien muttered to itself in another language before leveling her with an irritated stare. “My sensors failed to detect a sentient presence, but your species is living in primitive means below sustainability. Those who do not adapt will cease to exist.”
She winced, but it was nothing that she hadn’t considered herself. Human civilization had fallen and was long gone. Even the planet was barely limping along, judging by the freak storms that often raged. Like a host determined to get rid of a parasite, their planet was correcting itself, renewing, and killing off most of the humans. More died every year.
She considered her options. She had nothing to give, and obviously she would only amuse the alien for short stretches of time before it would likely become disinterested in her presence.
She needed to offer something useful.
“You said you’re here to salvage. What if I help you?”
That got its attention. The alien whipped its head around, its brow dipped in contemplation.
She hurried to make her pitch. She would do anything to get out of Phoenix, even pick through trash for parts. “I mean, obviously you can handle the Reapers, but I’m sure you want to get done quickly. With twice as many hands working, you can get out of here faster with your load. And when you leave, you can just drop me off someplace on your way out.”
It tapped one of its thick fingers on its knee in a human-like gesture as it considered her offer. Bedla—no, Krono, looked up from where it lay at his master’s feet. She barely dared to breathe as the alien considered her and her offer.
Finally, it let out a low growl and sat back. “Very well. Agreed.”
Terri sat down and settled against her pack with a smile. That was all she needed. Her imagination immediately conjured up images of the coast. Miles of sparkling beach with blue waves breaking across it. If humanity was a dying species where only the most resilient were destined to survive, she wouldn’t mind spending her last days beside the ocean. She would greet her ending by the fierce appetite of Mother Nature rather than by the hands of marauders and the mad.
“What is your name?” she finally asked. She couldn’t keep calling it alien.
“I am Veral’monushava’skahalur of Argurumal.” She stared and moved her lips as she turned the name
around in her mind. She didn’t think she even caught half of it. It chuffed again. “Veral. You may call me Veral, little human, Terri of Earth.”
“Well, Veral, we’d better move into one of the other rooms with four walls where we can get some sleep. I don’t know about you, but dealing with spiders and scorpions is bad enough. Dirt blowing into my eyes and mouth while I sleep is something I try to avoid. I’d rather wake up without that… assuming you aren’t going to murder me in my sleep,” she added worriedly.
Veral chuffed again as it stood and followed her farther back into the dwelling.
“Do not worry, human. You will not die this night.”
“Comforting,” she muttered.
They settled into what was clearly once a nursery. She was surprised that it didn’t pick another room but instead seemed content to keep her within eyesight. Or maybe her alien was just that suspicious.
Terri wanted to laugh as she checked the area for nasty critters before finally settling down. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she pulled a thin blanket out of her bag. Wrapping it around herself, she ignored the pang of guilt that she had nothing for her alien companion and settled down to sleep.
6
Terri woke to the smoky scent of meat and discovered that Veral had left while she was sleeping and returned not only with meat that the alien was patiently roasting over the fire, but with two metal carts filled with various metal parts. The alien hunched over them, its brow furrowed as it dug through them, likely checking to make sure that everything that it collected was still there and accounted for. Seemingly satisfied, it nodded and rose to its full height to walk the short distance to the fire.
Terri stared longingly at the large, fat lizards skewered over the fire. Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t had fresh meat for a very long time. She’d tried catching lizards before but they were too quick for her. Her eyes trailed over to where Krono lay in a corner with his own, tearing it apart hungrily. She swallowed back her saliva. She wasn’t going to assume that Veral intended to share with her. She didn’t catch them, after all.
Broken Earth Page 5