8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Astra

For the first time in months, I don't wake up to the blaring of the alarm clock, which can only mean one thing—I overslept. In panic, I jolt awake, my eyes snapping open as I prepare to launch myself out of bed. But I'm not in my bed. I'm in a cell, lying naked on a cold metal floor.

The memories all flood back to me at once. The kidnapping, the cell, the aliens—freaking ALIENS!—the prodding and probing, the pain from the collar, and how they tossed me into the cell with the tiger-looking alien. Naked, like an offering. But he didn't hurt me. In fact, I can feel his muscular arms wrapped around me even now, protecting me from the cold.

To my surprise, my first instinct isn't to scream out in terror and run away from him. It's to cuddle closer to his broad, perfectly sculpted chest.

My instincts suck.

My back is to his front, and I can feel the hardness of his erection poking at my backside. That helps me sober up a little. Still, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. He could have raped me ten times over and yet, he resigned himself to simply holding me so I wouldn't be cold. And his hard cock? It seems like aliens have morning wood, too.

However, nature calls. Careful not to wake him, I wriggle out of his arms before heading to the stinky bucket, internally cursing the gray aliens the entire time. Finished with my morning business, I look around the room once more.

The cellblock is dark, only illuminated by what I assume are emergency lights. I can just make out my cellmate sprawled on the floor, but don't see much from the other cells.

A skittering noise from somewhere behind the bars catches my attention. My hair stands on end, and a shudder runs down my spine. What now? What terrible things are crawling through this filthy place?

When something chirps right next to my foot, I jump back, nearly knocking over the revolting waste bucket. A scream dies in my throat.

Before me is a giant praying mantis. An alien praying mantis, obviously. Still, it's an insect, and its head reaches up to my knees. That is NOT the normal size for an insect. Also, it's blue, but the odd color bothers me the least.

It chirps again, sitting down on its many haunches in front of me like a dog asking for a treat. Unsure whether to scream or laugh, I backpedal all the way to the wall. The mantis doesn't follow, lowering its head instead and nudging something on the floor in my direction.

I squint at the tiny oblong objects. They could be seeds or nuts. They could also be the creature's feces. It's impossible to tell without tasting it, which definitely isn't on the agenda.

While I stare at the giant blue mantis, my cellmate gets up. He goes to the food pile the gray aliens gave us and unwraps one of the packages. It contains a processed bar of some disgustingly brown/green color that mildly resembles one of those protein bars back on Earth. The kind that only a fitness fanatic would dare to eat.

The tigerman breaks off a small piece and offers it to the mantis. The creature chirps again, grabs the food from his hand, and skitters a few steps away to eat it.

"Huh," I say, highlighting what an intelligent race us humans are.

The tigerman shoots me a toothy grin as he picks up the tiny things the mantis brought. Searching through them, he hand picks six purple, wrinkled berries and offers them to me. They kind of look like raisins. I like raisins, but who is to say if I won't die from eating whatever this is?

Not wanting to offend my cellmate, I gingerly pick one of the not-raisins from his palm and sniff at it. It doesn't smell like poop, so there is that. "Are you sure?" I ask, grimacing at the idea of eating something a giant alien insect has smuggled into our cell.

He pops two not-raisins into his mouth and smiles at me as he chews on them. It's as good an answer as any.

"Alright." I shrug. "You only live once, right?"

Unsurprisingly, the not-raisin doesn't taste like a raisin at all, but it's sweet and I have to admit that I like it. Offering the tigerman a timid smile, I take two more from his hand. "Three for me, three for you. That's fair, isn't it? Although you're bigger, so you should probably get more."

Shaking his head, the alien points toward the food pile before offering me all the dried fruit again. Even in the dim light, I notice there is a small pile of the not-raisins and other tidbits already there by the supplies from the gray aliens. That's good.

What is considerably less good is that the cell next to us is filled with several more mantises. They're much larger than the one inside our cell, hence, also much scarier, but at least their size prevents them from sneaking through the bars. The smaller one must be a child.

Even though I'm still freaking out over their scary visage, I feel a wave of sadness for the creatures. Not only were they stolen from their home and locked in a cage, but they also have to watch their baby suffer from the same fate.

My black and orange cellmate rumbles a single word, tapping his chest. I take way too long to realize he's telling me his name.

"Tareq," he repeats patiently.

The sound is hard to replicate, and I'm certain that his vocal cords function differently from mine, but I try anyway. If I'm stuck naked in his cell, we might as well start communicating. "Tah…req?" I try.

It doesn't sound anywhere near to what he said, but he smiles and nods anyway. "Tareq," he repeats before pointing at me, cocking his brow.

"Tareq. Alright. I'm Astra. Astra."

"As'Trah," he concludes, his smile growing wider.

His grin is a little scary with all of his sharp teeth, and I subconsciously try to step away from him, even though I don't have anywhere to go. Noticing my distress, Tareq retreats to the cell door, giving me as much space as he can. It's only a few steps, and I'm certain he could cross them in a heartbeat, but I appreciate the sentiment.

"Thank you," I say, giving him an apologetic grimace. He's been nothing but nice to me, and here I am, cowering from him as if he's some kind of monster. I'll have to do better at controlling my fear around him.

My stomach rumbles, and I eye the food packages by the cell door. Tareq waves his hand in invitation and looks ready to move out of my way like a proper gentleman. Gentlealien. Whatever.

"Stay," I say, indicating that he shouldn't move. Doing a poor job of covering my private parts with my hands, I walk to the food, my hand only trembling a little as I reach for a water bottle.

Tareq sits down in a corner, still smiling but pointedly looking the other way. Is it because he doesn't want to embarrass me by ogling my naked body or because he doesn't find me attractive?

That thought makes me stop. Where the hell did that come from? Why should it matter whether a freaking alien finds me attractive? I should be grateful he isn't looking at me! Damn my stupid mind.

I unwrap one of the packages, carefully sniffing at its contents. It doesn't smell bad, but not very appetizing either. A small bite reveals that the food's taste is about the same as its smell—bland in every way, like eating plain oatmeal. But it's food, and there's plenty of it, so I gobble down most of the bar, leaving only a tiny bit.

The mantis has been watching me eat with what I imagine is the insect version of puppy dog eyes, but it stays by Tareq's side. He's petting its blue triangular head, and it keeps buzzing in response, as if purring.

"Purring alien mantises," I say, smothering a hysterical chuckle. "I'm definitely on drugs. Hi there, little buddy. Or is it little girl?" I kneel a few feet away from Tareq, folding my legs so that they hide my private parts. I've all but given up on attempts to cover my breasts. They aren't much to look at, anyway.

With the rest of the bland food bar in my palm, I extend my hand toward the mantis. "Here, sweetheart. You can have that, but don't bite my hand off, alright?"

The mantis cautiously crawls forward on its many legs. Chirping something that sounds an awful lot like a question, it reaches for the morsel with a small pincer. I wince, expecting pain, but the creature is beyond careful as it takes the food from my hand. Instead of eating it, the mantis brings the food to the bars for its family. How sweet.

Tareq watches me with a bright smile, looking pleasantly surprised. To be honest, I am surprised too. I expected to be frightened, despaired, or hysterical, maybe all three. But after a good night's sleep in Tareq's arms, I feel rested and ready to tackle the world. The galaxy.

Befriending an alien mantis? Sure, no problem.

Learning not to be afraid of my sharp-toothed cellmate? Bring it on!

"Aren't you a good little alien?" I coo at the mantis, watching it nuzzle its larger relatives through the bars before scampering back. It nudges at my hand, clearly requesting petting.

With the panda before, it was simple. I've never petted a panda before, but I figured it would be like petting a dog. But who has ever heard of petting a praying mantis?

With trepidation, I pat its triangular head the way I've seen Tareq do it. The mantis buzzes, leaning into my touch, so I must be doing something right.

"You're a little cutie, aren't you? I'll call you Cricket." It's as good a name as any. "Do you like it, Cricket?"

The mantis chirps, and I decide to take that as a yes.

When Tareq stands and walks by me, I freeze but force myself not to flinch. He's proven he won't hurt me, and as the most intelligent creature around here, he's my best chance to escape. Plus, I hate how downcast he looks when I cower from him. He doesn't like me being afraid of him. I don't like being afraid of him either.

Curious, I watch him by the bars bordering my former cell. Tareq crouches nearby and unwraps another food package, making a "pst-pst" sound at Cricket. Incredibly, it works, and the mantis runs over to him.

I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle my giggle, not wanting to disturb whatever the alien has planned.

First, he gives Cricket a bit of food. Once the mantis devours it, Tareq breaks off another piece and tosses it into the empty cell. Cricket's chirp is anything but happy this time. He tries to reach the food with his long arms, but it's too far.

With what looks like a scowl, the mantis squeezes between the bars, turning and twisting his body until he's safely on the other side. Tareq mumbles something encouraging, probably telling the animal his language's equivalent of a "good boy".

Pointing at something in the far corner of the empty cell, Tareq says a few more encouraging words. Cricket scampers off, returning a minute later, dragging a blanket along. The smelly, threadbare blanket I didn't even get a chance to use. Cricket delivers it close enough to the bars so that Tareq can reach it. My incredibly considerate alien cellmate offers it to me, miming wrapping it around my chest.

"Thank you," I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes. "Thank you so much, Tareq." Suddenly, my situation doesn't seem so dire. There are obviously a lot of bad aliens around, but I've won the lottery with my new cellmate. He's definitely one of the good guys.

Cricket chirps, as if to remind me of his part in the great rescue of a scratchy blanket. I wrap the fabric around myself before leaning down to pet the insect's head. "Thank you too, Cricket. You've been amazing."

The mantis preens, letting me pet him before scampering off into the dark cell to explore. I worry he'll get hurt by some of the other cell occupants, but fortunately, Cricket seems satisfied running around the empty cell for now.

"Can't believe you taught a praying mantis to fetch," I say to Tareq, laughing over the idea.

He grins back at me, shrugging. Either he's telling me he doesn't understand me or that training an alien mantis isn't such a big deal. Probably the latter.

He replies in a teasing tone, but the only word I understand is my name. It feels oddly flattering to hear him say it.