Epilogue

Two years later…

“Alrighty, she’s good to go.” I gave the straps one last tug before closing the shuttle’s external storage hatch.

Riley and I had just finished spending all of Sanctuary’s allotted credits, and that meant it was time for us to enjoy the rest of the market. It was her first time at a Trader’s Market, and I could see the excitement in her eyes. There were all sorts of goodies on sale here, not just the essentials. Since that first year, the market had grown by leaps and bounds.

There was a never-ending selection of livestock, medicine, spices, coffee, tea, homemade foods, and beverages, both alcoholic and not. But it wasn’t just consumables. There were stalls with bolts of fabric, some from the old days and some newly woven, colorful skeins of yarn, and tools and notions for every handicraft under the sun. There was an entire section for woodworkers and a large subsection for those who upcycled the old into something new and wonderful.

There were classes in session all day too, from Cooking with Food Bars 101, to Raising Raisins: Dealing with the Terrible Twos, and War Machine Maintenance. The event was all about sharing information and connecting groups from all over North America and even the rest of the world. There were Tech Wizards who made the trip from Asia and Europe for their yearly meeting.

After last year’s scourge attack, the hunters responsible had hiked up security, and this year, not a single flyer or centicreep had made it into the market. At least not yet. The day was still young.

“Where are you heading to first?” I asked after taking a large swig from my water bottle.

“Siobhan is doing an intro class to pie-making and it starts in half an hour. I’m so glad we managed to get everything on Sanctuary’s list on time. Then after that, I’m going to hit up the yarn stalls.” She’d started a “stitch n’ bitch” at Sanctuary where a bunch of ladies and gentlemen got together once a week to knit and offload their troubles. “Did you know I got Clark to try knitting? Clark!”

“No, I did not.” I tried to imagine Sanctuary’s mayor de-stressing from his job with a pair of knitting needles and grinned. “Good for him!”

The day Riley and I had been kidnapped, Mountain Pip had alerted Aaron and Lenny the moment the other shuttle uncloaked. They, in turn, notified Clark and Sasha. They’d caught Gabe and his posse of disloyal guards red-handed, stealing supplies on their way out. Gabe died in the resulting shootout, and everyone else involved was ejected from the settlement with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

Training new guards and rebuilding had added more gray to Clark’s head, and he was well on his way to becoming a certified silver fox.

“Oh, here’s your hunter! Go spend some time with him. I’ll see you at dinner.” Then she was off, bouncing down the rows of stalls.

I turned to Harb’k, who was returning with Nov’k and Haax’l. The hunters, too, used this opportunity to meet up with old friends they’d fought with on previous planets and share information like new fighting tactics. The other two hunters went off to find their mates, leaving my wonderful mate with me.

“Are you excited?” I asked.

He was. I knew. There were too many strands of hair loose around his face, and that meant he’d been fussing with it, something he did when nervous.

“I am.”

“Me too.” I reached up and tucked a strand of his wiry hair behind his horns. Then I took his hand and we started toward the mothership building.

Last year when we were here, we’d learned about a special project. All Xarc’n warriors were created in artificial wombs on motherships, and some engineering types were getting together with the doctors and scientists to see if they could hack the wombs to carry human and mixed babies to term.

We’d planned to be guinea pigs until about two weeks ago, when everything changed. A mixed Xarc’n and human child was dropped off at the door of a hunter compound. The warriors who found the little boy had wrestled the car seat he’d been strapped to out of a flyer’s grip.

They’d followed the scent trail of the mother back to a large human settlement but were unable to pick her out. After announcing his existence with plenty of adorable photos, they waited for a hunter to claim him, but none came.

We’d put our plans to be guinea pigs for the artificial womb project on hold to adopt him instead. That option would always be there, but this little one needed us now.

My stomach fluttered as we entered the building and followed the signs toward the mess hall, where a man paced with a bundle in his arms.

He spied us and stopped. “Zoey and Harb’k?”

“We sure are,” I said, my eyes fixed on the bundle in his arms.

“Wonderful. Thank you for stepping up and taking in our little miracle. That’s what we’ve been calling him, since it was a miracle we got him back from that flyer. Have you decided on a name yet?”

I shared a look with my mate. “Connor. His name is Connor.”

“Great,” he said, carefully transferring Connor into my arms. “There you go, Connor. Your new family.”

I stood there with the world’s most perfect little purple baby in my arms. There were no horns yet, and the tiny bumps where they’d sprout were covered with fine blond hair. He opened his eyes, having been awoken by the transfer, and very human-looking hazel eyes stared back at me.

“Oh, he’s perfect,” I managed around the lump in my throat.

Harb’k came to wrap his arms around us, and at this moment, everything was right in the world. There were no scourge. No hostile groups. No deadly space fungus. There was just me, Harb’k, the little treasure in my arms, and all the love in the world.

“He is,” Harb’k agreed. “Hello, Little Warrior. Welcome to Earth.”

THE END

Did you know there is a spin-off series for the group in the mountains? Here’s an excerpt from Hunter’s Quest , Book 1 of Xarc’n Warriors: Mountains.

I poked at the giant scuttler stuck in my trap, hoping it was exhausted enough not to fight back. The giant space bug sprang to life, crawling in place with its eight creepy legs and slashing at me with its toxin-edged front claws.

I backed away.

Damn! These creatures were ugly. For something that had evolved elsewhere in the galaxy, they sure reminded me a lot of mutant Earth bugs. They stank, too, like a dead rat soaked in rotten milk overnight and left out in the heat to ripen.

This particular make and model had the claws of a praying mantis, the head of an earwig, the body of an ant, and the legs of a spider. It wasn’t small either. Scuttlers were about the size of an overgrown Rottweiler and were the smallest of all the insectoid space invaders that now crawled over our planet. They were also the most common type. During the warm months, thousands of them poured out from the large nests they built under our cities and towns.

I was so glad I lived up here in the Rockies.

I had my shotgun on me, as I usually did when I left my cabin, but it would be wasteful to use my dwindling shells on a trapped bug. Not to mention, the sound would draw more into the area. There were flying bugs too, but they hunted by sight, and I was well hidden under the trees. Even though most of the leaves had already fallen, the evergreens still blocked their view. However, a gunshot would alert them.

I unstrapped my axe instead. It was a utilitarian tool and didn’t give me a good range. If I could get close enough to hit the bug with my axe, then it could also nick me with its claws. Just the tiniest of nicks was enough to paralyze a limb for life.

Bug toxin was no joke.

The hideous creature hissed at me and struggled in my trap. I had to kill it quickly before the cord broke. It wasn’t made for something this size.

It was rare for the bugs to venture up to my part of the mountain. At first, I’d thought it was simply because I was so isolated. But this summer, I’d realized a pair of Xarc’n warriors had claimed this side of the mountain as theirs and had been preventing the bugs from coming up the pass.

Yet this was the second scuttler I’d found in my traps today. I’d managed to creep up on the first one from behind, smashing its skull in with my axe. This one was much livelier, turning to face me no matter which way I approached, its claws at the ready.

I was supposed to be trapping small animals and preserving them to stock my cellar in preparation for winter, not trapping bugs.

A skittering sound had me whipping around to find another scuttler behind me; this one, free and mobile. It waved its creepy mandibles at me.

Shit! Another one? This wasn’t good.

This meant the Xarc’n protectors in this area were either slacking or overwhelmed. Both were bad news.

I dropped my axe, reached for my shotgun, and tucked the stock against my shoulder. If I had to shoot it, I would. Then I’d need to run back to my cabin before more arrived. It would mean the end of checking traps for the day, but I’d be alive, and alive was good.

A low growl sounded before someone shouted in a guttural alien language. The bug turned toward the imposing purple warrior stepping out from the trees.

Rhaz’k. Why did I always get the bossy Xarc’n hunter? According to this overgrown mass of purple muscles, I belonged to him simply because I lived in his territory. Let’s just say our previous encounters hadn’t been the greatest.

He moved so quickly, he was no more than a blur. Just like the last time I’d seen him, he wore nothing but a leather loincloth and a few pieces of armor strapped to his body by a harness. It showcased his broad shoulders and pecs and drew attention to his washboard abs.

One moment the bug was whole; the next, Rhaz’k had slashed it in half with one of his glowing double swords. Before the internet fell, the prevailing rumor had been that their melee weapons were imbued with plasma energy. The alien warrior grinned at me, the show-off, displaying a row of sharp teeth and a pair of fangs. He tilted his head to the side as if in challenge, accentuating the heavy set of his ram-like horns.

Not to be outdone, I picked up my axe and bashed the scuttler still stuck in my trap on the head before Rhaz’k could. There was no damsel in distress to rescue here. I could take care of myself, thank you very much. Whether I wanted to or not; I had no one else.

The alien warrior scowled at me, clearly miffed that I’d gotten to the bug before he did. “Why are you out of your cabin, female? You should not be trapping scuttlers. It is unsafe.” His words sounded like a series of grunts and growls, but the translator on his belt came to the rescue.

Trapping scuttlers? Did he think I was trying to do his job? Hell no! I was trying to find food.

“You should return to your cabin, female.” He leaned in and sniffed loudly and snarled. “You smell of the strange male who has been around your home. He should not stay with you. Tell him to leave. Now.”

I stared back, shocked at the audacity of his words. Who did he think he was?

I got all up in his face, or tried to; he was at least a foot and a half taller than me. “First of all, I can invite anyone I want into my home.” I poked him hard in the chest with my finger. Ouch! His chest was hard as rock. “And second. I’m trying to find food. Winter is coming, and I need to make sure I have enough.”

He perked up. “If you are low on sustenance—” he made to grab my finger, and I jerked it back “—I can provide for you, female.” He almost looked gleeful that I was low on food, the jerk.

Of course he was. This was how these Xarc’n warriors got you. There’d been plenty of tales of Xarc’n hunters offering women food before kidnapping them into their shuttles.

“Thank you, but I’m quite capable of providing for myself. I’m not desperate.”

I still had food left, and I had most of my life under control. Most. All except for the fact that my ex, who I couldn’t stand, was living in my house and using up my supplies.

The only reason I’d even let Tristan stay was that I’d thought it would deter Rhaz’k from sniffing around. Tristan had shown up a few days ago, begging for food. He’d looked so pathetic, I’d let pity get the best of me and given him a meal.

There was no way we were getting back together, but sending Tristan out there was a death sentence; I didn’t want to be party to that. There’d been enough death already. I didn’t even know how he’d managed to survive all this time. So, believing his presence would discourage Rhaz’k’s attention, I’d let Tristan in.

It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the Xarc’n warriors’ help. I did. It wasn't lost on me that without the warriors hunting the bugs on my mountain, I’d have been overrun with the nasty creatures by now. I was very thankful for their help.

What I didn't appreciate was Rhaz’k sneaking around my bedroom window in the middle of the night and watching me sleep. That was creepy as fuck. I’d had nightmares of his yellow eyes and dangerous-looking horns for days. I’d had to close all my blinds when I slept.

So, that was how I’d first found out I had hunters on my mountains. Not the best first impression. Subsequent encounters with his surly, bossy ass hadn’t been any better.

There was another Xarc’n warrior who hunted here. Instead of watching by my window, this other one had watched from the woods. I’d pointed my shotgun at him, thinking he was a bear. When my neighbor Sandy’s home was burned down by raiders earlier this summer, he'd offered her a home in his shuttle, and she’d accepted.

I was glad someone was caring for Sandy. She seemed happy with him, and unlike Rhaz’k, Turr’k was actually nice.

If Rhaz’k thought the same thing would happen with me, he was in for a big surprise.

I didn’t find him creepy anymore, now that he was more than just a pair of glowing eyes and horns outside my window. In fact, he was kind of hot. No, that was a lie. He was scorching. According to the media, these Xarc’n warriors had been engineered to be the perfect fighters; they sure had the bodies for it.

Why? Why did he have to open his mouth? If he wasn’t such a domineering prick who thought he could tell me what to do, I might be interested.

I doubted he was interested in me like that anyway. The way he ordered me around, he probably thought of me as some idiot he had to care for because of a sworn duty to protect the planet and its inhabitants from the bugs.

“No,” Rhaz’k finally said. “You are not desperate, but you have not been successful with your hunting and fishing today.”

It was true I hadn’t been successful today, but I still had some of the supplies I’d picked up last time I was in town and a cellar full of food he didn’t know about. My previous trip to town had been early last spring, right before things got bad. The stores had been having trouble keeping their shelves stocked, but I still came back with a decent haul, including a bunch of food storage supplies and a truckload of perishables.

I’d spent a fortune that day and hadn’t regretted it. Money after that point had been useless. The next few weeks had been spent processing everything for storage, until the grid went down.

The only thing I was low on now was meat. Unfortunately, it was also the only thing the bugs were interested in.

“So, you’ve been stalking me again? I thought we had an agreement.” I put my hands on my hips. “We share the mountain, but you stop creeping on me. It’s not that hard.”

He frowned. “You are mine to protect.”

Oh no. We were not having this conversation again.

Ignoring him, I released the dead bug from my trap. The trap would need to be disinfected with fire before I could use it again. I didn’t know exactly what pathogens the bugs carried, but everything they touched reeked of death.

On the survival forums I’d once been a part of, they’d suggested disinfecting everything that came into contact with the alien creatures, and then burning the carcasses after. The hunters did the same, and they must have good reason.

Rhaz’k carried the two dead bugs to a flat rock and set them on fire.

“Give me the trap,” he demanded.

“No. I’ll disinfect it when I get home.” If he threw it into the flames now, I wouldn’t be able to pick it up until it cooled. The sun was setting, and unlike him with his exceptional night vision, I needed light to get home.

He put a small device in a nearby tree, a surveillance camera, and aimed it at the burning pile. Then he snatched the trap from my hand before I could stop him and tossed it into the fire.

“Hey!”

Fuck this. I threw my hands up into the air and turned toward my home. I was done with his crap.

Then he found the other trap tied to my pack and ripped that off my bag as well.

I whipped back around. “What the fu—”

Before I could finish my sentence, I found myself lifted up into the air and tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Oof! Why was his shoulder so damn hard?

“Let me down!” I pounded my fists against his back, but he didn’t even flinch. All I was doing was hurting my hands.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he just marched silently through the woods.

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