Keecha (Rathier Warriors) (A Sci Fi Alien Abduction Romance) Page 4

  I felt a small sting at the words: a silly, inconsequential sting at the implication that my being there meant less to him than his duty to his men. It was selfish and bizarre, and I knew it. I had to attribute it to the stress of the situation. It was hard to be left out, and frankly, that was something that had happened to me far more frequently than I cared to admit.

  “I’m sure you’re going to find them,” I said, unsure of what else to say. The Raither simply wasn’t going to quit until he found his people. I found myself wondering, very briefly and very secretly, whether or not there truly was a crew and a ship for him to return to. What if he was simply an alien prisoner on the planet for far too long who had deluded himself with fantasies of a crew and a ship that was just waiting around for him so he could get taken off of this hellish planet once and for all?

  Well, hellish might have been a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, there were dangers here, at least according to the random alien I had encountered during one such dangerous moment, but that didn’t necessarily mean that the planet itself was awful. Actually, it was astonishingly beautiful as far as natural resources and greenery were concerned. I was astonished every time we continued on and saw some new variety of plant life I had never encountered before. Hexa was a biological dream come true and seemed untarnished by the dark energy of the beings that were said to inhabit it.

  “Well, we will find them a lot faster if we stop taking so many breaks.”

  I prickled. The only breaks we had taken that day were so I could relieve myself, something which he seemed horrified by (and frankly made me wonder just what his species did to eliminate waste from their bodies) and the break we were taking right that moment, to sit down and eat and drink so that we could be fueled for the rest of the day.

  “We’ve only been resting for like five minutes. And you know what? I can’t help it if I need to pee, man. I don’t know what you do on your planet, but on Earth, people need to get the toxins out of their bodies somehow!”

  Kecha grimaced and turned away from me, an expression that nearly made me laugh.

  “Human, I have had enough with your words for the time being. Let us continue on in peace. I have many things on my mind, and they are troubling me greatly.”

  He pulled a small round ball, about the size of a bb, out of his pocket, and touched it against the water. To my surprise, it burst open into a rather large canteen, one that was immediately filled with the life-sustaining liquid.

  “You know, I’d die without this stuff,” I told Kecha. “So if you get pissed off enough at me, the easy way to get rid of me is to withhold water for a few days. I probably wouldn’t pee much either.”

  He scoffed and shook his head as if my sense of humor wasn’t quite up his alley.

  “I am not going to dispose of you, human. It is immoral. And I am a man of ethics. I will abide by the code of my kind, and the oath I took to honor the ideals of the Resha Federation.”

  I wasn’t convinced that the Resha Federation was a real thing at this point. For all I knew, I was being led on a wild goose chase by an insane prisoner of a planet that had been intended to torture criminals and prevent them from hurting those who would not commit such deeds. Still, I held my tongue on the subject, my suspicion and paranoia seeming like something of a taboo topic.

  “Well don’t do me any favors,” is all I mumbled as we continued on our journey.

  We walked and walked until nightfall, with no trace of any life on the planet except ourselves. It was kind of eerie in a way. Either we were moving out of range of the more populated area, or we were in a place where we stuck out like sore thumbs, being watched from a vantage point by creatures and beasts who knew the terrain like the back of their hands. Because of the ideal location of the river and the orchard, I was sure somebody must live nearby. But if they had seen us passing through, they didn’t show it.

  I almost would have preferred a straight-out attack over the unnerving suspense of feeling like we were being watched. I wanted to bring up my fear to Kecha, but he seemed lost in thought, and the idea of speaking my fears out loud seemed even worse. Almost as if I would be inviting them to come true.

  Besides, it was easier to avoid an ambush if the people ambushing you weren’t on to the fact that you suspected an ambush, right?

  “This will do,” Kecha said with a sigh, sitting down on a fallen tree and putting his head in his hands. “Rest now, human. I will set up a shelter for the night.”

  A wave of fear chilled me, but still, I could not bring myself to speak. There was something eerie about this area, the way the third moon, hanging high in the sky directly on top of us, made the gigantic trees look like menacing warriors ready to strike.

  Kecha disappeared into the woods, and I heard him shuffling around as he began to collect the supplies for our shelter. I wanted to go after him, but I was frozen in fear. I knew it was unfounded. I had just worked myself up being paranoid about the ideal location of the orchard. Just because I would want to live there didn’t mean that other more barbaric creatures would want to do the same.

  I was left alone on that fallen tree for a few minutes too long. I began to shift nervously, looking about to try to catch a glimpse of anything that might have malicious intent.

  The only thing I saw, however, were small, fire-fly like creatures who flashed a small beam of orange and golden light in the air, only to disappear and reappear elsewhere. I tried to relax and enjoy the light show, but there was too much pressure built up in my chest, to the point that when Kecha finally came back, I ran up to him and nearly embraced him. The sight of him brought me untold comfort, and he looked at me with a tolerant curiosity when I approached.

  “Will you help to build the shelter tonight?” he asked. “I would like to show you the proper way to do it so that when we part ways, you will be prepared.”

  “Okay,” I said, grateful to have something to focus on to take my mind off of my fears. “I would appreciate the lesson.”

  Kecha nodded, and I sighed up into the sky, surprised by just how similar the night sky on the planet Hexa looked compared to the night sky on Earth. The stars that were visible were extremely different, but the general look and feel were still the same.

  I felt my chest tighten with grief. All I wanted to do was to go home. I would do anything to return to my home planet. Even if that meant facing this dangerous new world alone.

  Chapter 4

  Commander Kecha Thornax

  The night passed by slowly, and yet I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched. There was something out there in the night keeping its tabs on us; whether friend or foe, I couldn’t be sure. Surely though, if it was one of my crew, we would have been reunited by now.

  I had taken to whittling as the human slumbered, napping every hour or so for about ten minutes before rousing myself again to keep a firm watch on the camp. I wanted to make sure that both of us were prepared and would not be surprised by a sneak attack of any kind. And so I had begun carving weapons out of strong boughs that I collected off the trunk of the fallen tree.

  The noise didn’t seem to disturb the human’s slumber, and she rested soundly as I scraped the bark of the branches off and then began to fashion the head of a spear-like weapon. This was the one I was going to give to the human, presuming I could trust her with my life. Even if I couldn’t, I had been trained well in combat I would know quickly just what her intentions were should she decide, for some reason, to turn on me.

  I became consumed by my task, thinking about just how gut-wrenching it had been to try to find my crew over the past two days. The days on Hexa were slightly shorter than the ones I was used to on my home planet, though the human had complained about the days seeming longer than she remembered. Either way, the difference in time was disorienting to us both, and I was more eager than ever to get off this planet.

  I didn’t know why I had been so adamantly against the idea of bringing the human on the ship with me. I had wanted to claim h
er since the moment I had first laid eyes on her. In fact, that drive had led me to such a deep desire for possession of her that I had even refused to take her back to the group of humans that she belonged with. The idea of losing sight of her had been nearly maddening. I couldn’t live the rest of my life knowing that I had let such a compelling, magnificent creature out of my life.

  And yet, I had made her believe that this was exactly what I was going to do. Why? I usually lived by a code of honor and honesty, doing my very best to live up to my own expectations and ideals and holding others to the same standard. Sure, I kept my spiritual beliefs to myself, but that was to be expected. What I didn’t do was lie outright to people to conceal my own confusing motivations.

  Just what were my motivations exactly? Why didn’t I want to help this human do the one thing she had set in her mind to do and return to Earth?

  Once the spear was completed, I sighed and looked over at the bed of leaves I had fashioned for the human. I had wanted it to be more comfortable than the first one, as I had noticed her rubbing her neck miserably all day. She said it was because of being stuck on the floor of the Petchuvian spaceship with the other humans in her group, but I knew she was hiding the fact that she hadn’t slept well on the ground with just one leaf.

  I stared at the little bed, then blinked hard, unable to believe my eyes. A chill crept down my spine, and I blinked again, hoping that when I opened my eyes, the reality before me would change. But it didn’t. The human was gone.

  ***

  “Alice!” I shouted, tearing out of the shelter with my spear held high over my head. “Human! Answer me!”

  I would slaughter any creature that dared harm a hair on the human’s head. She was mine to protect, whether she knew it yet or not, and I would fight to the death in order to do so.

  “What?”

  I froze, turning my head in the direction of a tall tree, where Alice was stepping toward me, that sheepish look of embarrassment creeping across her face. I realized suddenly that she had somehow slipped out of the shelter when I had been consumed by crafting my weapon.

  “What are you doing out here?” I demanded. “It is dangerous! You should have told me you were leaving!”

  “I thought you saw,” Alice said, clearly unimpressed by my anger. “And besides that, I don’t have to answer to you. I can come out to relieve myself without getting permission from you. You may command some obscure ship out there, but you’re not in charge of me.”

  Alice strutted past me, and I gritted my teeth, turning to face her as she walked past me.

  “If you know what’s good for you, then you will listen to me, human. How many times have you been off the comforting soil of your home planet, huh? Just this once, right? We all know that human females have been forbidden to leave. And yet you think you can manage everything just fine on your own without even having the wits and experience to do so?”

  Alice turned to face me, fire in her eyes and a furious frown etched deeply into her gentle features. Somehow, she even looked beautiful to me angry, and I kicked myself for furthering this feud with her rather than keeping my peace and allowing it to be resolved. It was late, and it would do us no good to attract attention to ourselves.

  “If I had my choice, I would have stayed on my planet. And even if it is possible that you will actually find this alleged ship and crew of yours, you wouldn’t help me or my people anyway! You’re selfish, and then expect me to sit around and wait to follow your orders? I think you’re the most deplorable, disgusting creature ever to walk this—”

  Suddenly, the earth beneath our feet began to rumble, and a loud shriek sounded from behind me that made my blood run cold.

  “Get down, human!”

  I leaped toward her just in time to knock her out of the way of a ball of fire. It hit our shelter, and the entire thing was immediately consumed by flames. Alice’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at the wreckage, but I had no such luxury. Something was behind us. Something massive.

  I whipped around to face it, my spear at the ready, and gaped at the sight of a creature I had only seen in the most horrific of storybooks. A Grechen.

  Its tall, lanky body was about three times the size of my own, and it was pitch black. All I could see in the darkness was its body’s terrifying silhouette and the eerie green eyes that glittered down at us. It had several sets of eyes, all over its body, and four long, spindly arms that could reach out and crush an unsuspecting foe. Probably the worst of it all was that inside, each creature was animated by a core of molten lava: lava that could be formed into balls of fire and aimed like cannonballs at their prey through a wide chute in the center of their faces. It would be only minutes before another ball of lava would be ready to be launched.

  “Stay down!” I shouted to Alice. I had no idea whether she heard me or not, or even whether she would heed my words. Regardless, my plan was simple. Go for the Grechen’s weak point with the spear, and if that didn’t work, grab the human and run like hell.

  The Grechen let out another horrifying shriek, and I heard the human cry out in fear. I would do whatever it took to protect her. I had claimed her, pure and simple, and I was going to keep her to myself now and for all time.

  But only if we survived this.

  I could feel the heaviness of the Grechen’s gaze upon me as I ran through the brush, my brain racing as I attempted to bring to mind this particular monster’s weakness. Surely it was one of its eyes, but which?

  Once I was behind the creature, I paused, gaping at its back. There was one giant eye, closed as if sleeping. It was bulbous and repulsive, spanning the entire length of the Grechen’s shoulder blades. I was going to have to find a way to reach it somehow. But how could I possibly do that without being detected?

  Another fireball lit up the darkness, and I panicked momentarily, concerned for the safety of the human. I had to trust that she would be able to take care of herself until I could dispose of this monster, but until that happened, I was going to have to pick up the pace.

  I scanned the area around me, my eye resting on a tall, diseased looking tree. It was the only thing close enough to the monster that I might be able to strike it with my weapon. I scrambled up the tree as quickly as I could, which wasn’t an easy task by any means. It swayed and crackled under my weight, and I soon found myself wondering whether the Grechen would be the death of me or the tree I had chosen as my launching post.

  The earth rumbled as the monster shuffled about, searching for me. I raised my spear in one hand unsteadily, gripping the tree as it groaned and swayed ominously beneath me. If I missed, I would simply agitate the creature further, and quite possibly lose my weapon for the duration of the fight. The only course of action at that point would be escape.

  But once a Grechen laid its eyes upon you, the memory of its vengeance was etched into it forever, and it would stop at nothing to cross you off its list of unresolved problems.

  That type of stubborn vengeance seemed to be the problem for so many of the creatures confined to the prison planet. At first, because of how slow things had been, I had almost wondered if the danger was exaggerated. But now I knew that surviving in this world was impossible without the utmost caution. Maybe now the human would finally start believing me when I asked her to be careful.

  A third fireball lit the sky, and I was horrified to hear the human’s voice cry out. I had no idea whether she was hurt or not and had to stop myself from saying her name. If I gave away my position, my chance to defeat the Grechen would be lost.

  To my horror, it began to advance, presumably to do more damage to the human or search for me. I seized up momentarily and then finally allowed myself to let the spear fly. A piercing wail filled the night air, and the huge eye on the Grechen’s back opened, locked on me and blood red.

  I watched enrapt as the beast crumpled to the ground, heaving a final, shuddering breath and then immediately deflating, a stinking green sludge oozing out of the crevices of each eye.

>   I stared at it for a moment, disgusted and in awe, before finally remembering Alice. I scrambled down from the tree, letting out a startled bellow when the branch I stepped on cracked under my weight and left me falling heavily to the ground.

  I laid in the dirt, dazed, before finally struggling to my feet and running back to the area where the shelter was still ablaze.

  “Alice?” I whispered, afraid of attracting any more commotion. “Alice, where are you?”

  The human was suddenly clinging onto my body, her face buried into my chest. She was trembling violently, and I held her close to my body, turning her away from the gruesome sight of the Grechen’s corpse.

  This was no land for humans. The Petchuvians who had deposited them here had been unthinking and cruel. If I ever made it back to my own planet, I would speak with the Federation and propose a rescue mission for the humans that had been trapped here.

  But until then, I had to find a place for us to sleep for the night. The human was not safe out in the open, and despite the fire raging from the shelter I had made, there was a deep chill in the air. There was danger ever present, and until I found my crew, it was just us against the world.

  ***

  Ever since the incident with the Grechen, the human had been withdrawn and quiet. I had seen these sorts of effects on men in battle after witnessing the horrific violence common to such situations, but because the Raithers were peaceful and kept to themselves, it was rare that we were driven to violence.

  Still, it happened, and I had been trained to deal with combat as effectively as possible. The human, however, clearly had never been exposed to such a vicious attack, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It had been my fault it had happened; I had panicked and shouted her name and begun a pointless argument that had drawn the many-eyed monster right to our doorstep. It was a mistake I hoped never to repeat again.