Hello, readers!

The next chapters (5-10) are a single update. x.x It's long over due and I'm real sorry about the wait for these edited chapters. Hopefully they're good, though! There's a lot more going on, a new enemy, and more. . .goodness? I hope? I don't know. See more in the A/N on chapter ten!

This chapter has been updated as of 5/7/2016.

~Crayola


Chapter Six

Cast a Shadow

The ship was more of a maze than I first guessed. Though the original hallway was a straight shot out of the chamber, it splintered after several yards. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of the humanoid since I'd left, and the idea that I might not find him again sent shivers up my spine.

I held my breath and listened for footsteps or the rattling sound he made. Anything that would let me know in which direction he'd gone.

There were too many options, even after some of them were blocked by fallen debris.

Despair settled in my chest like a stone: nothing but silence met my efforts.

"No . . . no," I muttered, my voice a whisper. My hands trembled and I brushed away the wetness on my cheeks. Though there was no one to talk to but myself, the silence would drive me mad. "Come back, give me something—anything."

The semi-darkness was worse than actual darkness: it spread shadows that toyed with me. It conjured sounds that weren't there.

I picked one left-most path on a whim and ventured into the darkness. Wandering without a sense of direction was dangerous, but there wasn't much else I could do. It was also the only plan I'd had before deciding to stalk an alien, as well. I didn't know what I'd expected, knowing he was invisible.

How do you follow something you can't see?

Not two minutes into my chosen trail, a screech sounded from behind me. I twisted, throwing myself to the ground to avoid an unseen attack. It was my first experience with a knee-jerk reaction.

A roar followed that screech. I was on my feet again in an instant, sprinting back the way I had come, stopping again at the splintering corridors. After a second I heard the sounds again and took off down a different path. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. If I wandered alone much longer, something would kill me.

So I ran toward the noises, ignoring the voice in my head telling me to run away. The danger was where he was, and even injured after the crash he was better off than I.

Who knew if it was even my humanoid. There had to be other passengers aboard that survived. Others that might not hesitate to end me. Even if it was a different one, one that wouldn't bat an eye at killing me, I had to risk it.

Whatever or whoever it was, they were fighting off multiple enemies. Part of me thought I could help.

Right. With what weapon?

The only thing I had resembling one were the steel-toed boots I had looted, and they were too big for me. Too heavy. I couldn't hope to kick the aliens to death, even if they were the right fit.

Gave me a funny mental image, though.

The cluttered hallway opened into an equally cluttered room. There were several pieces of technology strewn about, broken and sparking. Two serpents perched upon the wreckage, their backs to me and the humanoid standing in front of them. I stopped short, afraid they'd see me, but skidded on slime. My arms wind-milled to keep me upright and I stumbled backwards into the hallway, out of sight.

Though the wall obscured my vision in part, I was able to recognize the humanoid as the one from before: the same mask, the same wounds. He held a spear in his hands as he squared off with the shadowy aliens.

Two serpents. One Mr. Universe contestant.

He loosed his spear, pinning one to the wall. It's comrade reacted in kind, leaping at him, but he grabbed it by the throat before it could cause him harm. His wrist blades sang from their gauntlet and he held them over his head. The monster in his grip lashed its tail violently, but was unable to find its mark before he plunged the serrated bladed down, slicing its head in half. He let it go and it dropped lifeless to the ground.

Number Two thrashed where the spear had it pinned, hissing and spitting. Each time it opened its mouth, a second set of jaws popped out, snapping at the air. A shudder went up my spine, but at least it wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Other serpents were strewn about; he'd already killed so many. Smoke rose from their corpses—or rather, from the floor they settled on. To think he'd taken the half dozen or so aliens by himself . . . while injured. I didn't know how hurt he was, but between the crash and his fights, he had to be in bad shape.

Everything I'd seen so far indicated to the contrary.

He sauntered up to the pinned alien, as if he had all the time in the world. It hissed and lashed out at him with its long, deadly tail. With the same deftness he'd shown earlier, when I'd thrown the boot, he caught the appendage and sliced the sharp tip clean off. The alien screeched in rage, but the humanoid's blade shut it down.

The serpent slumped to the floor as he yanked his spear free. Both his blades and the spear retracted with a metallic hiss; his wrist blades disappeared into his gauntlet, and the spear telescoped inward from both ends.

Like the toy lightsaber my brother played with all the time.

After he considered the corpses he made, the humanoid turned toward my hiding place. I ducked further behind the wall and held my breath, hoping that he hadn't seen me. That same curious chittering noise reached me from my hiding place.

Had I been spotted?

I waited a few seconds before I allowed myself to exhale. Slowly, I leaned so that only half of my face was poking out from the wall. His back was to me, his form receding into the dark tunnel on the other side of the room. After a few more of his long steps I was on my feet, crouching low and trailing after him.

This time he didn't disappear into thin air. I figured it had something to do with the fact that the aliens he was hunting didn't have any eyes. After all, what good was it to hide if your enemy didn't see?

As I trotted after him, I stuck close to the walls. Despite all my conditioning for soccer, I was sweating and panting after only a few minutes. The ship was too hot for the clothes I was wearing, but I didn't want to remove my jacket. Not when it was another layer to protect my fragile skin.

So I would deal with a little perspiration and thirst. Any ounce of protection would help.

If he ever noticed me following him, he showed no signs. It made me feel like I was doing some real spy stuff. Enough time had passed that my heart rate evened out and the adrenaline had faded. All my nerves were on edge still, but I was no longer in flight or fight mode.

It was several minutes before I caught him looking over his shoulder at me. I knew I wasn't being as quiet as I could have been with my over-sized military boots, but I was doing my best.

Each time he turned his head toward me I ducked behind something to hide when I could, and other times I could only flatten myself on the floor. A thick mist floated above ground, and I hoped it covered me well enough. In every instance, he'd wait a few seconds, crackling to himself in a strange way, then move on.

I hated sitting in the fog. It was thick and cloying on my tongue, stealing my breath.

But I stuck it out, more afraid of being caught than of holding my breath for a few seconds.

He moved through the dark corridors with practiced ease, even without a light. I chalked it up to him knowing the ship like the back of his hand. Maybe his mask helped.

Unlike me, who was left to bumble about in the pitch.

An upturned floor panel reached up and grabbed my foot. I let out an undignified squawk before I could stop myself, but managed not to eat it. For a moment I held perfectly still to make sure he hadn't heard, but he wasn't even in sight.

Panic quickened my steps, but as I turned down a bend I found him. He crouched close to the floor, rubbing his fingers together. He stood as I appeared and moved on.

When he was ahead, I scuttled to where he'd been and examined the slime smeared there.

I glanced up, then left to make sure I didn't lose him.

After following him around for who knew how long, I did just that. I couldn't seem to catch my breath no matter what, and even if I pushed myself, the heat and thick air sapped my strength and slowed my every stride.

As I was thinking about giving up, a scuffle urged me onward. When I arrived, I found him under attack in the hallway, facing off with another serpent. I hid, crouched by the stifling floor, and watched him square off with the creature. He widened his stance, arms up and fingers splayed, but had yet to draw a weapon.

Why didn't he use the gun? He'd almost shot me with it earlier, but I had yet to see him kill the alien serpents with it.

Saving ammo?

Instead he favored his wrist blade, extending it with a flex of muscle. There was something different about the alien he was facing: it wasn't so black, more of a muddy brown. The big protrusions I'd noted on others were smaller, and it seemed almost hesitant to attack. Instead it circled, hunched and wary, hissing warnings.

Somehow it seemed smaller. The others I faced had appeared larger than life, and they all held themselves with far more confidence. It was possible there were different types of aliens, I supposed. Not even humans were all the same, after all.

Before I could further study the smaller alien, the humanoid man-beast made his move. He lunged and the serpent hissed, meeting him half way in an act of self-defense. Their grappling match didn't last long, maybe fifteen seconds. My escort dispatched it with a few swipes of his blade, growling in satisfaction.

Just like the rest, the ground hissed where the creature landed. It hadn't happened in the egg chamber, where slime and resin covered the floors and walls.

The acid on my boots, on the floors . . . . It didn't seem to affect themselves.

Lost in thought, I nearly missed the sharp growl from across the room. I'd been staring at the dead serpent, captivated by the fact that these things had acid blood. My unwitting escort had made the noise, and by the time I looked up, his back was to me and he was leaving.

I was beginning to believe he did know I was following him. Maybe that he even wanted me to. I couldn't think of why, though, so I brushed the thought aside.

Careful not to step in the corrosive blood, I jogged after the humanoid. He was already around another corner. When I caught up, I made sure to keep at least ten steps behind him, sometimes even farther back. If I was too far behind, I couldn't see him in the darkness, and I didn't want to lose him again. The next time I did, I might not find him again.

Where was he even going? Something told me it wasn't out of the ship.

It seemed more likely, based on the way he followed their trails, that he was hunting them. He reacted to each screech with a sharp turn, an idle rattle. Every now and again he would check a digital map projected from his wrist computer and alter course.

Holograms. Should have expected it.

Sometimes I thought he was looking for something else, as well. Several times I lost him, only to find him emerging from a room. His movements were always subdued afterwards, head tilted down and shoulders rolling. Either he didn't like what he found, or he hadn't found what he wanted to. He always closed the doors behind him, so I never found out what was inside.

Every one of my muscles ached. The heat was dragging me down and I thought about ditching my jacket several times, only to remind myself that I needed it. My throat was dry, and I lagged farther and farther behind.

Soon, he was out of eyesight and hearing range.

Sweat dripped down my brow and I knew I couldn't handle it any longer. I shed my winter coat and tied it around my waist, loathe to leave it behind. I was instantly cooler, and I rolled up my shirt's long sleeves.

If I could take off my long underwear, I would have.

I needed to take a break, to catch my breath, but I couldn't afford it. I'd never been so breathless after walking, and it felt like something was squeezing my chest. In areas where the mist was thickest, I found the hardest time breathing.

It had to be the atmosphere in the ship, or the mist itself. Something to help the humanoid's species breathe. The system must not have been damaged in the crash.

Whatever it was, it didn't agree with my lungs.

Still I pushed on. Having a hard time breathing wasn't something I was new to. It wasn't like it in every part of the ship, either. It seemed to worsen deeper in, only for me to find relief in other sections. Malfunctioning equipment, no doubt. Or holes in the hull leaking air from outside. Possibly both.

Finally, several minutes after losing him, I found him. Loose wires and tubing concealed his shape, but I caught a glimpse of him standing statue-still, his head inclined in my direction. When I pushed through the fallen circuitry, his back was to me and he was walking again.

He couldn't have been waiting for me. I had to have imagined it. I couldn't fathom where he'd be leading me or why he'd be leading me there.

Unless it was a trap.

That was an all-too-real possibility and I considered abandoning the game I was playing. He wasn't looking for an exit and I was, so I would be better off finding my own way.

No, there wasn't even an ounce of truth in that. I had no weapon, and so far he'd fielded all the attacks. Not only that, but the ship was huge. I'd been following him for what seemed to be an hour and I felt like we hadn't even scratched the surface. What more could there be in the ship? How many rooms, how many paths? There was no way I would be able to navigate it.

Following him was still my best shot. Maybe I should let him catch me, or force him to acknowledge me. I was tired of sticking to the shadows, wondering where we were going. If he wasn't going to kill me, then maybe I could convince him to help and stop the game of cat and mouse.

What did I have to lose by trying? Well, except my life.

With that thought in mind, I stood up straight and jogged around the corner. He'd passed it only seconds before me, so it would be nothing to catch him.

I trotted into the next hallway and found it empty. No humanoid. No serpents.

There was nothing but mist and a few panels from the ceiling hanging down.

Wherever he'd gone to, he'd taken my hope with him.

Of course.

He'd been suspicious of my stalking the entire time. It was only a matter of when he tired of my shenanigans and cloaked himself to ditch me. I hurried for a while longer, thinking maybe he'd pulled farther ahead of me than I thought, but he wasn't there.

He wasn't anywhere. Just gone.

"Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, running my hand through my damp, sticky ponytail.

Now I was alone.

Now I was going to have to find the way out on my own.

And fend off those things by myself . . . somehow.

After a few deep breaths to steady myself, I accepted my fate. I'd have to cut my losses and leave the damned ship. Plan B hadn't worked, so it was back to Plan A—wander aimlessly and try to find my way out as fast as I could. My escort had caught me and decided he didn't want to fill that position anymore. There had to be a way off: the black bug-serpent-things were finding a way, and they were blind for Pete's sake.

All around me, the darkness closed in and threatened to drag me under. Dread crept into my soul and I fought not to drown.

High up on the walls, strange markings gave off an ambient red glow. Though their main purpose didn't seem to be lighting the way, it kept me from being cast in utter darkness. I focused on the lights and let them chase away the shadows.

Nerves steeled, I rubbed my face and followed the hallway onward.

*:・゚✧

Desperate and afraid, I followed a noise and everything it promised down a hallway. I didn't know exactly what the sound was, but it meant something was alive.

And, at the very least, that something wasn't a serpent.

Without a deadline or a pace to keep up with, I'd taken a moment to find a niche and wiggle in to rest. I'd shed some of my other layers, shuffling clothes around until I was no longer wearing my long johns, just the long-sleeve shirt and my jeans. It lightened my load and cooled me down, and I left them there, seeing no reason to keep them.

It was around that time that the sound started.

Whatever it was, it began as a faint whisper on the stale air. I hadn't heard anything in nearly twenty minutes, which I'd counted as a blessing. After it reached me, I had a new goal and I'd clung to it, hoping it was the humanoid or another person.

Minutes into the corridor, the sound was louder and easier to comprehend: a voice.

A human voice.

Despite the heat, ice crawled down the back of my neck and I broke into a light jog, following the call for help. It was weak, as if they had given up hope but still felt the need to try. Though I didn't recognize it, I was all too happy to see another living person.

The voice of reason deep within my mind reminded me they were likely dead to rights. But I pushed such thoughts away. If it meant having company for a while, so be it.

"Hello?" I called, voice soft and timid. I'd reached an opening in the wall, the room inside a dark void. It was where I'd heard the person calling, but I wasn't about to enter until I was certain. All was quiet in the room for a moment.

After a pause, they spoke up. "Someone's there? Oh thank god, get in here and help me down."

I rubbed and squeezed my hands together, uncertain. The nagging voice in my head was telling me to leave them to their death. Visions of Anderson bucking and choking bubbled to the surface and I clenched my eyes shut against them.

"You still there? Hurry up before those sons of bitches come back! What are you waiting for?"

Bad thoughts be damned. I didn't want to be alone.

"Coming," I answered, venturing into the darkness.

Several steps in, I tripped over something knee-high and soft. I hit the ground, jarring my wrists, and scrambled to my feet.

"Watch it," the man inside hissed. "There are eggs all over the place."

The room was darker than any other so far. A light flickered in the corner, but the room had lost power otherwise.

"There are eggs all over the place."

All color drained from my face when I realized what that meant. I didn't know why it came as a surprise, but it left a bad taste in my mouth all the same.

My sight attuned to the dark and my pulse roared in my ears—more people on the wall. Open eggs. Dead facehuggers peppering the ground. Holes in chests. I panted ragged breaths, tears pricking my eyes. For a moment I'd forgotten about the man I'd come to help and all I saw were the people staring at me with their sightless gazes.

"Hey! Don't—Christ, you're just a kid. Okay, listen. Look at me. I'm over here. Hey!"

His commanding tone was enough to snap me from my waking nightmare. I searched the room until my attention fell on the only living and conscious person present.

There were plenty of military people, and others yet were the missing hikers and rangers.

"Yes, that's it. Come here and help me down. Please." His tone was softer, his expression sympathetic. I hesitated another moment, then picked my way around the eggs until I stood before him. Something squished under my boots but I didn't dare look.

"What's your name?" he asked as I started pulling at the resin cocoon confining him to the wall.

I didn't look up from my work, and little by little I wore down the material. "Nichole."

"Nichole what?"

His arm came free and he helped to break apart the rest of his prison. I replied, "Nichole Shain."

He didn't offer his name until the cocoon was loose enough for him to fall free. I backed up to give him room and he wiggled out of the last strains of resin, then fell to the floor. I offered him a hand and he let me help him to his shaky legs. How much time did he have?

"Name's Henry Simmons. Thanks for the assist, Ms. Shain. How'd you get out? How long have you been here? This is a quarantined zone, didn't Anderson tell everyone to stay away? What about our perimeters . . . ," he muttered, holding tight to my shoulder.

Anderson's name sent a sharp pang through my heart and I lowered my head. "There wasn't anyone at the park, we hiked in and the things got us. Anderson. . .he helped me escape."

Simmons nodded and shifted his grip to my upper arm, squeezing hard enough to hurt. I ignored the pain and stumbled after him as he dragged me toward the opening. He glanced at me and said, "He's not with you, so I assume he's dead?"

I nodded and fought to keep my face from twisting with anguish.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hand to his head. He glanced around, then pushed us against the wall, peering into the brighter hallway. Every few seconds, he suppressed a cough. "Have you run into any other survivors?"

"You're the first."

Except for the alien gladiator.

"There's no telling how many of those things are out there. We'll have to move quick. Stay behind me and stay quiet." He paused to cough and cleared his throat. "Don't know how far I'll make it, but I'll get you out."

My gaze fell to the empty holster on his hip and I blinked. No gun. No weapon. He couldn't do any of those things without a weapon.

"Where's your gun?" I asked aloud.

He glanced at his belt, then did a double take.

"Shit," he muttered, patting himself down. "I must have dropped it when those fuckers dragged me here. We'll have to hurry before the eggs start hatching. Stay here."

Without another thought he went to work rooting through the effects of the others. I stood against the wall, wringing my hands, my eyes locked on the eggs. They seemed dormant now, but I knew they could start hatching at any moment.

"Be careful with guns," I advised. "When I used one earlier it lured a bunch of the black things to where I was."

Simmons glanced over his shoulder, but otherwise paid my warning no heed. "Where is it now?"

"What?"

"The gun."

I pressed my lips together and fidgeted where I stood. "It ran out of ammo so I left it."

"Fair enough."

It was amazing how easy it was for him, moving from corpse to corpse without a care. How many times had he had to do this very thing?

Chewing on my bottom lip, I poked my head out of the room to check the corridor. There were no enemies, but screeches were coming from deep within. Even though he told me to stay put, I didn't want to be alone at the only entrance. I shuffled over to him but gave him some space.

"Find anything?" I asked after a moment. We'd been in there too long, and the eggs made me uncomfortable. They started to rustle.

When he turned around, he was holding a single handgun and a tactical knife. He handed me the knife and began examining the gun. The knife was heavier than I thought it would be, but it filled me with a bit of confidence. The blade itself wasn't very big, but it was ten times better than nothing.

Nice, now I can stab one whole alien. Probably wouldn't even kill it.

I wished the voice in my head would keep quiet for once.

"They ambushed us at our base," Simmons said, slapping the clip back into the gun. "We had all our firepower back there, so there's not much here. I've got ten shots, so let's try not to meet these fuckers on the way out."

His coughing started again and set my shoulders to trembling. I tracked his movements as he started to the doorway, my mouth hanging open with unspoken words.

One of the eggs squelched and I jumped, then ran to catch up with Simmons.

"Are you okay?" I asked, standing by his side and holding my knife in both hands. He strafed along the walls and I followed behind with half the stealth he showed, knowing it did no good. "You know what happens to people, right?"

He motioned for me to follow, then stopped and doubled over. My muscles coiled into tight springs as he wheezed and hacked, shoulders rocking. Each sharp breath he drew caused pins and needles to prickle across my skin, but eventually he straightened. He cleared his throat and said, "I'll be fine for a little bit. What about you?"

"I got out before anything could happen. If Anderson hadn't helped, I wouldn't have made it out at all," I murmured, gripping the collar of my shirt.

Nodding, Simmons kept us moving.

"Ah, wait." He stopped and dug around in his pocket, then produced a handful of chains and a bunch of ID cards. "Hold these for me. Did you happen to grab the ones from the room you were in?"

I took the chains and untangled them, finding the flat metal of dog tags. He'd been looking for more than just weapons on those bodies and my throat tightened. "No I, I didn't think . . . didn't know I should have . . . ."

Simmons pat my shoulder and offered a terse smile. "That's fine, I didn't expect you to, just asking, that's all."

"Why do you need them?" I asked as we walked, draping each tag around my neck.

"Don't know what these things do. They might eat us, and then we wouldn't be able to identify the bodies. Could just leave 'em for when backup arrives, but easier to grab 'em now."

"Backup?" I stuck the hikers' IDs in my pockets and tucked the dog tags under my shirt.

"We're supposed to check in at 0600, and when we don't they'll come."

That was so far away, I realized after I checked my phone. Another few hours. However, if they were coming that meant there was hope I'd make it out.