39. Kira

39

Kira

It's quite dark in here. The moonlight barely breaks through the thick wall of water, but I can still make out Drasuk's large form a few feet in front of me. I watch as he steps up onto the rocky, solid ground.

The water is calmer than outside as I tread over to him. Once my feet can touch the bottom, I wade through it the rest of the way and step onto the cave floor. I'm shivering as I trudge over to a large dry mossy patch and sit down.

Today felt like a year.

I've rarely felt this wrung out.

I flop down, my head spinning, then take in a long breath. Even soldiering in ass-backwards regions came with more comforts than this.

I miss my apartment, as stark and impersonal as it was. At least there was a bed.

"Will I ever get back home?" I hear myself ask, then wince that I let it escape my mouth so it can lay heavy in the air between us.

Drasuk ceases looking around the small cave and comes closer.

"I won't lie to you, Kira. I doubt you'll find someone with the means who is willing to take you."

A pent-up breath bursts out of my lungs. "I didn't exactly envision myself ending up kidnapped by the universe's biggest galactic holes in the rear."

I really wish that would translate better.

I also didn't expect some sort of lust modification that made anything sapient I look at cause undesired lust, but I don't mention that one. Even though it's somehow worse than the original kidnapping.

He lets out a dark, rumbling chuckle. "Yet here we are."

I snort. "Here we are."

"That's an understatement for them," he says. "And in some ways, giving them too much credit."

My jaw drops open. Did he just join me in my endless cursing? If even by extension?

"Drasuk, my man, I might be rubbing off on you. How about we make it this, then? Genali are insecure little excrements with inferiority complex issues and overcompensate for their small packages. Is that better?"

"Define package in this context."

"You can't guess?"

"Should I be able to guess?"

"Reproductive organs, Drasuk."

He lets out a long-suffering groan. "How many different words also mean reproductive organs in your language, human?"

I start to do a quick count, but abandon it right away. I'd be tallying all night.

"A lot, especially names for food."

"That's disgusting."

I let out a braying laugh, my mind latching on to the humor at his appalled tone like I'm a starving woman, and his words are ambrosia.

Where are you when I need you, doves of Olympus? I could totally crush an ambrosia delivery right now.

I reply to him with a smile on my lips. "It is disgusting. It really is."

He lets out his own chuckle, probably more at my species' expense than I would like, but it still feels good.

I like his laugh. It bounces off the cave walls as if he's grinding down the stones. It isn't anything like the sick honking laughs of the genali. Nothing sinister about it, just a carefree rumble of appreciation.

"Got to hand it to you, Drasuk. You're funny without trying to be."

When I say his name, it sends a small shiver down my spine. As it often does.

His spikes twitch. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't get used to it," I warn him.

My lips turn down when I think of never seeing Earth again. Well, I might not get home, but maybe he has a chance.

"Do you think you'll be able to get back to your crazy planet?"

I'm sad to see the amusement leave him, but for some inexplicable reason, the answer is important to me.

"I would like to give you a definite answer, but I can't. Right now, I think the important thing to do is to survive. And the only way for that to happen is if we kill any hunters we can find. Because as long as they are alive, we are not safe."

"No offense, but there is only one of you, me, and who knows how many of them. I don't know if you noticed and all, an excellent shot I might be, but I'm not exactly carrying around an army."

"That's why it's best I look for them before they come looking for us."

I wait a few moments to see if there are any other steps to his grand plan for planet domination.

Nope. He just keeps staring at me like he's Themistocles at war with Persia and he just solved all our problems.

"That's it? That's your entire strategy?"

"Some of the most effective are the simplest."

I can't argue with him. Not because he's right, but because my overtired brain isn't coming up with anything better.

A giant yawn overtakes me just thinking about it.

"I'm going to hunt for food. I don't expect anyone to find this hiding place, but if they do, I'm sure you'll make them regret the mistake of bothering you," Drasuk says.

"You say the sweetest things," I purr. "Don't take too long out there."

"Why? Missing me already?" he teases.

I snort. "Sure, can't you tell? I'm barely holding back a mountain of grief right now. Try not to get yourself killed."

Drasuk is still chuckling as he moves toward the waterfall.

His chest continues to rumble as he laughs, the sound dampening once he's in the water.

Once he's gone beyond the wall of falling water and out of sight, I shift my ass around on the soft moss to find a more comfortable spot, angling to take advantage of the dim light.

Using salvaged scraps, I spend some time creating a better way to secure the sheathe of my new ridiculous-looking sword. My fingers are slow and it's hard to see, but eventually I have the sheathe secured to a makeshift belt.

I pull it out to make sure it comes out smoothly, my right arm crossing my body. Satisfied, I move to sheath it, but instead find myself admiring the blade. The gleam of moonlight on the dark alloy makes me remember the joy on Drasuk's face as he completely wrecked that camp.

He kept me alive in that fight, then pulled this out, knowing I would like it, though I could tell it would have been a good weapon for him, too.

Was there something in his gaze when he handed it to me? Something soft and hopeful?

I shake my head, flinging off delusions and distractions. He was just being practical and increasing our chances of survival. I sheath the blade with a decisive snick of metal against metal, then huff out a breath.

After that, I'm too dizzy with exhaustion to stay upright, so I compromise by propping myself up on my elbows as I pull the braceaaer gun up next to me, laying my hand on it where I can snatch it up quickly.

Then I close my eyes, just for a moment.

They burn with my need to sleep, but I resist, though the giant white noise machine at the entrance of the cave isn't helping my efforts to stay alert.

I lay back on the moss and wait for Drasuk to return.

I'm fighting a light doze when I hear a disturbance of something big exiting the water not far from where I lay. I snatch the gun up and swing it around, then let out a sigh of relief when I see it's Drasuk.

From the scent wafting toward me, he not only had a successful hunt, but took the time to cook it. I don't care what the thing is, it smells heavenly.

"I could kiss you," I tell him.

"What's a kiss? More violence?"

I let out a choked laugh. "Uh, yeah. Violence."

"An odd reaction, considering how much your stomach has been grumbling for food. Or I assume that's what that odd growling-screech was our entire walk."

"Yes, that's what it means."

He snorts. "Fitting, since that's how the rest of you communicates."

I flip him the bird, too tired to try to figure out an insult that actually translates. Instead, I focus on eating as much of the still-warm hunk of meat he hands me as I can fit in my stomach.

He happily gobbles up what I can't finish, and I equally gladly take him up on his offer to take the first watch. With no pressing need to stay awake, I'm asleep within moments.

***

I'm running. My lungs burn with every breath, my heart pounds in my chest, and blood pours down my temple, blurring my vision. My left arm is useless. A gaping wound pulsing with searing pain, aching and twitching against me. I'm clad in my combat gear, boots pounding the rough terrain, trying to escape from something that feels like it's always just a step behind me.

The world around me is a chaotic blend of shadows and dim light, shapes that twist and contort in my peripheral vision. The ground beneath me shifts and buckles, making every step treacherous. I stumble, nearly fall, but force myself to keep moving. I can't stop. If I stop, I'm dead.

A guttural roar echoes behind me, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. I glance back, and for a split second, I see it—an amorphous, monstrous shape with glowing red eyes, teeth gnashing as it pursues me relentlessly before it morphs into gleaming metal and skin. It's eyes the black orbs of a cyborg. The sight of it fills me with terror, urging me to run faster, but my body is already on the verge of collapse.

My foot catches on a protruding root, and I go down hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I scramble to my feet, but it's too late. The thing is upon me, its rancid breath hot on my neck. I turn to face it, my one good hand fumbling for a weapon that's no longer there. Panic sets in, a cold, paralyzing fear that grips my entire being.

The creature lunges, its claws slashing through the air, and I brace myself for the inevitable.