Epilogue

Zara

If the Tavikhi made tombstones, I swear to god mine would say "Here lies Zara Black. It was the arrowheads that did her in."

How fucking hard can it be to make a stupid arrowhead? Apparently for me, it's nearly impossible.

Or maybe you're being too much of a perfectionist.

I've been making them since the beginning of the cold season and here we are, three months later, with the snow finally thawed from the ground and I still can't get them to look the way I want. Yes, they look a thousand times better than that first ugly ass one I made, and Benham says they're functional—which is high praise coming from him—but they're not good enough. At least not by my standards. Which, I'll admit, are probably far too high. Okay, definitely too high.

I can't help it. Perfection has been drilled into me for the entirety of my twenty-eight years of life. Although, technically it was only for twenty-seven since I spent the whole year before I left Earth being as imperfect as I could possibly get. At least according to my perfect parents. Especially after I found out what really happened when I was ten.

The familiar shame I'd felt over six months ago when I boarded the Exodus Voyager washes over me at the thought of Clifton and Priscilla Black. Of that last day when they disowned me. I can't say I'm surprised. I'd finally managed to fuck up my life in a way so bad they couldn't just pay someone to make it go away. By the time the news of what I'd done reached them, it had been too late. Their reputation was going to be ruined if they didn't do something drastic.

It didn't matter that I was the victim in the whole thing. The Blacks had an image to uphold and the situation I got myself into had been no one's fault but my own and I had to face the consequences—their words. I'm not sure why I even cared about what they thought, said, or did. They were never going to win "Parents of the Year" anyway. Long before Amelia was gone, they were cold. Distant. If not for my sister, I never would have known what love is.

Eighteen years have passed since her death and the thought of her still brings tears to my eyes. She'd been more than my sister. She'd been my mother. My confidante. My best friend. Until someone took her from me. I wish I could hate her for what she did. For leaving me alone with our parents. But even though it took me a long time, I understand. She wasn't the one who deserved my hatred.

A thunderous war cry fills the air and my heart drops into my stomach. What the fuck is that? I drop the arrowhead and my tools onto the stone surface and race out of the forge. Horror greets me. An alien tribe battles with the Tavikhi warriors. I stand frozen in a state of shock mixed with panic. There are so many of them.

My gaze darts everywhere looking for my friends, but it's nearly impossible with the mass of bodies battling before me and the blaze of smoke and fire from dwellings being set aflame.Spinning on my heels, I race back into the forge and grab one of the swords Benham had just finished crafting. It's so heavy, I nearly drop it.

What the fuck are you doing, Zar? You don't know how to use this thing.

It doesn't matter. I have to try to help. Except the minute I step back out, one of the enemy aliens stands blocking my path.

Fear courses through me. His pale white skin reminds me of the snow we just got rid of and the only thing that stands out is his bald head, red eyes, and the black loincloth. I attack even though I'm barely able to lift the sword. A demonic grin splits his face. He dodges my swing and laughs, taunting me. I don't have time to raise the weapon again before he's right there, knocking it out of my hand with his own sword. Pain shoots up my arms from the collision.

I turn to run, but he snatches my hair and yanks me backward. A scream erupts from my throat and I reach back to claw at his hand praying he releases me. His hold only tightens. I swear he's going to scalp me.He drags me through the dirt by my hair with me kicking and screaming the whole way.

The piece of shit yanks me to my feet and backhands me. Blood fills my mouth and black dots dance in front of my eyes. My head swims. Don't pass out.I push the pain away—something I've had plenty of practice with—and stumble alongside him up the hill directly behind us. I think someone screams my name, but between my ringing ears and the blustering wind, I can't be sure.

My calves are aching as he drags me up the steep incline. More than once I trip on a root that sticks up from the ground and each time, this asshole nearly rips my arm out of the socket yanking me forward. Other than the night we escaped the human settlement over six months ago, this is the first time I've ventured within the forest.

Back on Earth I lived in the upper tier surrounded by skyscrapers on every side. The closest I ever got to nature was looking out my bedroom window.

Within the trees are several more of these bald fuckers and animals unlike any I've ever seen. They're a cross between a camel and a lion mixed with some deer DNA to give it horns. Whatever it is, it's fucking terrifying. Made even more so by the fact that my captor throws me face-down over one and then mounts behind me. I thrash about and almost manage to slide off the creature, but my captor grabs my hair and yanks me back.

"God damn it you cock sucker," I scream. "You're going to rip all my hair out."

He ignores me and calls out to his buddies in a language I don't understand. With an arm pinning me down, he takes off through the trees. What is he going to do to me? With each punishing bounce, I do everything I can to not puke my guts out. All I can think about is maybe, if I fight hard enough, I'll get lucky and he'll kill me. Then I'll get to see Amelia again.

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