Once Hannah reached the end of her road she hopped out of her truck and ran to the cabin without unloading anything. She ran, quietly, up the stairs and paused outside the door. She slowly turned the handle and peaked inside. The alien was still on the ground, still unmoved. She was beginning to think that his arm had only been outside of the blanket because the sled he was laying on was too small for him. She pondered her predicament, thinned her lips and shut the door reluctantly.
She went outside and unloaded the gas cans into the shack, taking one to the generator and shutting it down, filling it up, and turning it back on. She then unloaded all the wood from the truck and into her home, dividing the pile between the downstairs and carrying the other half up stairs. She quietly opened the door, took her boots off to be even quieter, and slipped inside.
She was slow and careful in placing the pile down, and adding a few logs to the fire, giving paranoid glances back at the alien, and wondered if she should have gotten some horse tranquilizer for him. But she knew that, without knowing the proper dose, she could just as easily kill him as keep him asleep.
She moved over to the alien, looking him over. The wheezing seemed to have subsided partially, and it didn't sound as painful. She felt gently along his crest, but she had no idea if infection had set in, if he was running a fever. She cursed herself for having not taken his temperature when she first brought him in, but it was too late now. She peeled the layers of blankets off of him very carefully and with the lightness of a feather, picked the edges of the bandages up and lifted them to see how the wounds were healing.
She was amazed.
She probably shouldn't have been. He was an extraterrestrial life form of which she had no idea what he was capable of, but the huge wound on his chest, which she was sure would have killed him from blood loss alone, was looking like it had been healing for a week. The smaller bullet wounds were nearly completely gone, and the cuts and scratches he had endured were completely gone. She didn't dare unwrap the leg, even if he was healing this quickly, the leg would still not be fully mended. She reset the bandages and looked him over, humming.
She left heading downstairs and outside without a coat, the cold punishing her instantly for her impatience. Small snowflakes flurried around her as she hurried to the shed and grabbed a coil of rope. She ran back to the house, shivering and shaking out her hair before moving back upstairs. She used towels around his shoulders and tied the ropes around the towels, looping the ropes around the headboard of her bed, creating a makeshift pulley system. If she could manage to get his torso onto the bed, she figured she could manage his legs. She guessed that he weighed over 300 pounds judging by dragging him up the stairs with the sled.
The bed groaned, she groaned, it was a pain, but the large torso of the alien finally lay on the bed. Sweating bullets, she moved to his legs and swung them onto the bed, hoping she hadn't aggravated anything. But this was a much larger and comfortable surface for him to lie on. She sighed and left the room with the sled, taking it down the stairs and into the cold storage with the rest of the things that she didn't want found. She went to the kitchen and ran the hot water, wincing at the thought of how much energy she was using. She had no job, and was living off of the meager interest that her mother's life insurance money made in the bank.
She filled a bowl with hot water and used one of the towels from the pulley system, which were the only towels she had in the house, soaking it in the bowl before returning upstairs to the room. She looked reluctantly at the alien, but relented despite her apprehension and carefully began to wash him. She wasn't sure if it was needed, and wasn't looking forward to cleaning between his legs to find out if he had a dormant metabolism in this coma-like state or not.
His whole body was riddled with scars, nasty ones. This thing had been through a lot, and she had to wonder what kind of life he led. Was he a criminal or a warrior? She thought that the latter was more likely by the way he fought. What kind of wars had he fought? How old was he? And most importantly, why was he here?
She finished cleaning around a thick scar across his stomach, like he had been gutted once, and looked at the alien's crotch. She inhaled and heaved a sigh before getting to work. She tried not to think too much about what she was doing as she cleaned the area and hastily retrieved and put his loincloth back on.
Finished with his sponge bath she layered the blankets back onto him and relocated the lights. She was due for a bath herself, but she didn't want to be away from the alien longer than she had to. She gave herself a sponge bath as well across the hallway, both doors open just in case. She did away with the water and returned to the room, feeling a little refreshed but still very tired. She fed the critters in their cages, mealworms for the lizards, a thawed-out mouse from the freezer to the snake.
She monitored the critters, making sure each of them ate before she moved back to her spot against the wall, looking at the alien and wondering what she was going to do with herself if it remained like this for much longer. She couldn't imagine a year of this, especially since she expected Weyland Corporation would visit again soon.
Outside, the dark grey sky began to fall more violently. Large white flakes soon blocked out all vision a foot away from the window with the fury of the blizzard. All the possible outcomes that would end in her death came to mind, knowing that if the worst occurred, no one would find her for months, or even years.
She stood up after a couple hours of sentinel duty and headed downstairs for something more substantial to eat. She went into the cold storage and to the freezer, but paused, her hand on the white lid and looked over at a shelf. She moved over and leaned to reach behind it, grabbing the cold metal she felt and pulling out the alien's mask. It had a sever look by itself, the narrow slits of grey mesh-like material where his eyes were gave the appearance of ferocity. Cactus-like thorns adorned the brow ridges and the edge of the crest. It was damaged with scars of his own, claw and nicks along the edge.
She turned the mask over and looked at the inside, at the intricate tubes and wires all covered in a metal coat. She doubted that she would be able to even begin to understand how the thing worked, resisting the urge to try it on, knowing that it was far too large for her face. After a moment of deliberation, she put it away in his hiding place and went to the freezer.
She brought up a slab of meat and made herself a steak. The house smelled instantly of the meat thanks to the heat. She made herself a bit of hot chocolate to make her feel better. She moved over and looked at the calendar on her wall, sipping the hot beverage. Her brow furrowed and she reached forward, gently touching the calendar. She looked at her watch and looked at the date; December twelfth.
She frowned and marked the calendar to be up to date, having forgotten to do so because of her guest. She finished her drink and made her way back up the stairs. She paused a moment in the doorway. The alien had moved. His mandibles had gained some strength, now closed by themselves around his obscene mouth. His brow was furrowed, then relaxed, a single tusk clicking. He was more asleep now, less unconscious. It meant he was probably going to wake up soon.
She shut the door behind her quietly and slid down the wall, her hand finding her gun and placing it in her lap. The storm outside had not subsided. The hours ticked by, the alien was restless, making clicking noises only occasionally. She felt the familiar heaviness of sleep weigh on her shoulders and burn her eyes. She inhaled and made herself busy, moving towards the fire, moving the guard and throwing a log onto the fire. The second log was accompanied by a grunt and she froze. She shot back to the wall, hand grabbing her gun and flicking the safety off.
She turned towards the alien, watching as he shifted, moved, and grunted again. She couldn't see his eyes in profile, and wasn't sure if he was moving around in a nightmare or if he was awake. Her question was answered as he slowly sat up. The bed creaked as he gripped the blanket in a tight fist, tilting his head and inspecting it, clicking, then roughly pushing them all away.
He shook his head, dreads smacking his shoulders as he put a hand to his crest. He paused, probably realizing something was missing and he looked up, then around. Bright yellow eyes scanned over to her and froze. He snarled and moved, just as she lunged forward shouting, "no don't!"
The alien flexed his arm, holding it at an angle then looked at his arm. His weapons were gone. He roared again and stood up, then crumpled to the floor. She flinched and moved over to the other side of the bed and looked at the alien. He had landed on one knee, bracing himself against the wall and looked at his leg.
He made a rattling noise and lifted his head to look at her. His mandibles clicked in warning and she held out her hand, a sign to wait, one he understood it seemed because he shifted back on his weight, but he gave a glance to her weapon and back to her, his brow furrowing.
"Look, look," she said and she moved the gun, sliding it away from her. When she looked back the alien's mandibles spread and he roared at her face. While the roar had been startling, what concerned her more was his breath, it wasn't a pleasant scent and she coughed slightly and furrowed her own brow.
"Enough of that!" she yelled and smacked her hand against the ground to get her point across and his mandibles returned to their neutral position, clicking as his head tilted, "your leg is broken," she said, then said again slowly pointing at his leg, "your leg," she then moved her hands in the air like she was breaking a stick in half, "broken."
The alien looked at his leg, moving to settle back, one leg crossed underneath him as he moved his wounded leg and rubbed a hand against it, feeling the splint she had made. She sighed and stood up, earning a sharp glare from the alien who looked at her outstretched hand. He grunted and she moved her hand to point at the bed. He looked at the destination she indicated and growled, lifting himself up using the edge of the bed and the wall. She reached forward instinctively to help it but it grunted at her. He seemed to have understood though, and was keeping weight off of his leg.
He sat unceremoniously on the bed, making it groan, and he looked over at her. She understood the silent notion perfectly, 'now what?'
She sighed and stepped back away from the bed, and the alien growled at her, looking pointedly at the weapon that she was unintentionally moving closer to. She held her hands up in a gesture of peace and sighed.
"Look, I know you don't understand a word I'm saying," she said and bent down to her gun. It watched, glowering, as she lifted the weapon and slipped the clip out holding the two pieces separately, "but welcome to Earth."