Hello, readers!
Bit of an expositional chapter, I guess. Get to see more of the crash and what it all meant for the other yautja. . .um idk. This chapter I'm not really sure on, so any feedback is really appreciated! I'd gladly go back and edit if someone had some insight (whether they think it's good or needs tweaking.)
This chapter has been updated as of 5/7/2016.
~Crayola
Chapter Nine
Victim
I cowered against the wall next to the door, holding my hands against my chest, until I realized the new alien wasn't awake. Though his mask was facing me, he wasn't moving from his position on the floor. He might not have even been alive. Three ragged claw marks were scored across his chest, raw and bloody and deep. No matter how sturdy his species seemed, there was no way he would have survived having his chest cleaved like that.
My escort strode up to the fallen humanoid, kneeled in front of him, and put a hand to the helm before lowering his head in respect. I left him to give his buddy his. . .last rites or whatever and examined the walls. I stepped up to the perfectly bleached and polished trophies, examining each one.
The lights hovering over them gave off waves of heat and I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket. I unzipped it far enough that my bra was still hidden, though I doubted this alien cared. It wasn't so much for modesty reasons anymore as it was for protection. I had no shirt, so I needed something to protect my delicate human skin.
"You . . . killed all these?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
All the skulls alone pieced some of the puzzle together. They enjoyed hunting as a pastime, so I could assume the one that caused the crash had been part of a prior hunt. It stowed away, made the ship crash, then started infecting anyone it came in contact with. Now it was going around the ship, searching for any who had escaped.
Grandpa had hunted many deer and elk, but had only one trophy head. It had been two inches away from a record buck, so I assumed all the skulls present were the same. Trophy creatures that had put up some sort of fight or were a mark of rank.
He hadn't taken any of the ones he'd killed so far as trophies. Were they unworthy, or was he not worried about keeping winners, since the ship had crashed?
I turned toward him again when I received no answer and asked again. "Did you kill these?"
His head turned toward me and he grunted that same sound, most likely the word for "no" or whatever translated closest. He instead motioned toward a single wall against the far back, drawing my attention toward it. The room was the size of one of my classrooms at school, and each wall had its own section of trophies.
Sparing a final glance over my shoulder, I walked to the wall he pointed to. There were only a few, most likely his crowning achievements. Some were the elongated skulls of the serpents—all in varying designs.
The two biggest ones were in the center. They were roughly the same size he was, with the skulls fanning out like a crowned crest. I almost assumed they were a different species, but when I moved closer I saw the second set of jaws nestled inside. There were some other creatures present, but it seemed the serpents were prominent. The two center pieces looked strong and important, but it might have been a specific host trait.
"So these are all yours," I muttered. He was standing now, replacing several dislodged trophies to the wall. Not all of them had made it through the crash. Most had been preserved well enough to keep from shattering, but others weren't so lucky, and I carefully stepped over a few shards of bone.
My escort chittered in response, but I couldn't understand. He and made his way toward me, stopping to pick up a few pieces that had fallen.
"Do you have more somewhere else, or is this it?" I faced the huge cranium and reached out to run my fingers down its high crest, but a scaled hand grabbed my wrist. I inhaled a sharp breath and stumbled when he pulled me back, barking out an admonishment.
I pulled my hand out of his grasp and recoiled from him, rubbing the joint where he'd squeezed too hard. "Ow! I'm sorry! You were touching those ones, I didn't think—"
Growling, he thumped me upside the head. I grunted and shot him a sour look, but backed away. "God damn, sorry. The human's not allowed to touch . . . fucking got it," I mumbled, glowering at his back. He hadn't hit me hard, but my head was still throbbing as a side-effect of the alien painkiller.
He leaned down to pick up another skull from the floor and examined a coin-sized chip with an irritated trill and disappointed head dip.
"So," I started, "are you like, a high rank?"
It seemed like each member on the ship had their own section where they showcased their best kills. A select few had the same large serpent skull, but only my escort had two. One had three, and several dozen other skulls.
My escort set aside his now-fixed skull (when had he done that?) and gave himself a shake. I wasn't sure how to take it, so I dropped the question altogether. Maybe he was being humble.
Or maybe he was bragging in his own way.
Rolling my eyes, I turned back to his wall and looked at some of the other skulls. Up until then I could ignore the heads I wanted to, but my eyes finally came to rest on the morbid familiarity of the bones lining the bottom of his showcase.
Human skulls. In a neat little row. He didn't have many, but there they were.
Sand lined my throat, making it difficult for me to swallow the lump that formed. I turned away from the wall and indicated toward the human skulls. "You hunt humans for trophies, too?" My voice was low, and I hoped he had heard me.
At first he didn't acknowledge my question. When I was about to ask it again, he turned toward me and nodded once. My heart stuttered and I looked away from him, bent over at the waist.
They killed humans for sport.
I was human.
We were silent for several heartbeats while he let that sink in. I forced myself to remember that he wasn't trophy hunting right now. If he had been, he would have killed me when first we met.
No, probably not. I was hardly worth anything, young and weak.
But if he hunted humans, why was he helping me? He shouldn't care if I lived or died. I couldn't even claim he was using me; I hadn't done a single bait-like thing since he'd agreed I could follow him. The giant alien might have interrupted us, but he had hidden me when he could have strung me out.
Then he'd come back and saved me! Doctored my wounds, and had let me inside this room instead of making me stand outside and look tasty.
It didn't make any fucking sense. Meat shield, maybe? No, that wasn't it either.
My lips pressed into a thin line. I couldn't make a break for it. I wouldn't make it far, and I didn't see a need to. If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it already back when he first met me in the egg room. He'd all but pulled the trigger then, but stopped for some reason. There was only one hope should he turn his murderous gaze on me—convince him to give me a weapon. At least then I'd be able to defend myself for, oh say, three seconds before he cut me down.
Through the thick door, a distance roar caught our attention; deep and unlike the noises the other aliens made. My escort turned his head an inch, growled, then took a few steps toward me. I retreated in the opposite direction and put my hands up as meek protection, now paranoid he was going to kill me at any second. However, he stopped my attempted flight before I could bump into his precious trophies.
His hand gripped my good shoulder and he tugged me toward the door, a deep churr of amusement at my reaction. I was still tense in his grip, but I let him drag me through the now-opened door and toward the noises.
"Is it a survivor?" I asked, trying to pull my arm free. His grip tightened and I winced. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."
He made a noncommittal grunt and steered me down another hallway. The roars grew louder until the echoing crackle of the giant alien drowned them out. My escort yanked me faster down the hallway, coming close to pulling my shoulder from its socket a few times.
"Hey," I snarled, "be careful! Let me go, I can keep up on my own."
His hand retracted and I pulled my arm into my chest, cradling it there, glowering. Running was easier with my arm free and I trotted after him like a good puppy.
Each pulse of noise ricocheting against the walls made my hairs stand on end. The back of my mind prickled with a sudden realization: the sound was familiar. I'd heard it somewhere before. Though the noise was a demonic rendering, it was the exact same thing. The same echoing crackles that dolphins made.
Echolocation.
It could see everything. That was how it was tracking us. I couldn't speak for the little ones—not when they were so quiet until they were on top of you. This large monster, the Echo, hunted its prey via sound. Like a bat.
A trait from its host, no doubt.
"Give me a weapon. I can help," I insisted between breaths.
He ignored me and kept running, growling to himself. The way he growled, his hunting posture and strange sense of loyalty to finding survivors. . . . He was like a wolf, searching for his pack. A lone wolf, trying to survive.
Wolf.
I opened my mouth to make the demand again, but a fierce cry from above cut me off. I stopped short and turned my head in time to see one of the facehuggers leap off the ceiling toward me.
Eyes wide, I leaned back a ways and lifted my hands to guard my face. Since when did these assholes wander around on their own? I'd assumed they stayed put until a drone brought them a host, but apparently fucking not! Apparently they went looking for hosts if there weren't any presented.
Fucking perfect.
A split second before impact, my escort—Wolf—shoved me forward. I lost my balance and tumbled to the ground, but somehow managed to turn the landing into a roll. I scrambled to my feet, hands up and ready to defend myself. My stance was wide and ready, concern knotting my chest. Would he be alright?
The facehugger had landed on his mask and was skittered for purchase, its tail lashing. I didn't have time for relief, though. It let out a surprised and confused squeal, unable to find an orifice to invade, then leaped off Wolf. Hitting the ground running, it came right for me.
It didn't make it far before Wolf stabbed it with his spear, pinning it to the spot. The thing scrabbled around, squeaking and hissing, then finally fell still.
I felt as if my heart was going to explode straight out of my chest. I remained in my half-crouched position, staring at the dead facehugger. If Wolf hadn't been so vigilant, or a millisecond too slow, I would have gotten a mouthful of that.
Would he have been able to get it off me? Or would he have cut his losses and killed me?
None of that mattered. It didn't happen. I didn't need to dwell on it.
Knees shaking, I stood straighter and forced my arms to my sides. They ached to hold me, to keep me together, but I had to prove to myself that I could do it on my own. I didn't need comfort from anyone. I had a strong mind. I had to have a strong mind.
"Now can I have a weapon?" I asked, voice unsteady. The Echo had fallen silent ahead of us, as had the potential survivor. Either we had been too late or the other humanoid had chased it off.
Oh how I wanted it to believe the latter, but my heart said otherwise.
Wolf's low rumble worried me, and I waited for him to decide. I watched him as he considered me, then turned to lead me onward. I repressed a scream of rage and stomped after him, my hands balled to fists at my side.
Were he a few inches smaller and a little less muscular, I might have punched him.
Many times.
Would it really be such a bad thing, giving me a weapon? I didn't know what I could do to prove he could trust me with one. The last thing I wanted to do was kill him, and I was certain I couldn't even if I did want to.
The Echo was long gone by the time we reached the site of battle. We were met with complete disarray; the room was the biggest I'd been in so far, larger than our school's gym room by a margin. Broken controls and consoles were everywhere, sparking and crackling. Lights blinked in various places, and the walls were actually windows, covered in dirt. Inches, maybe feet of rock and rubble. It had to have been where they did the driving—the bridge?
Among the broken machines were bodies. More than half a dozen of them, all humanoids like Wolf, tossed about like ragdolls or crushed beneath heavy machinery. Any that had survived direct impact into the side of the mountain wouldn't have lived through the Echo's rampage.
Especially not since Wolf had to save me.
If I hadn't been with him, he might have made it. He might have been able to fight alongside the survivor. I put a hand to my mouth and took a step back, guilt-ridden.
"I—I'm sorry," I muttered, shaking my head.
We weren't alone in the room. Several serpents remained, picking their way over the walls and bodies. When they noticed us, they screeched in greeting. Wolf wasn't in the mood for their bullshit, and for the first time since we'd first met, those three red target dots took aim.
His cannon fired with a muffled sound, one for each serpent. All of them burst apart in a spray of acid blood, quickly filling the room with the stench of burning flesh and metal.
In the end, though, he didn't have enough shots to cover all of them, and at least one slipped out unharmed. With it spent, he removed it from the mount on his shoulder, discarded it, and made his way toward the carnage wrought by the Echo. I almost followed him, but felt he needed to deal with the death of his comrades alone.
And now I knew why he hadn't shot me in that room. He hadn't seen the need to waste a perfectly good round of ammo on some pitiful human girl. Not that I was complaining.
Not all of the humanoids on the bridge were wearing masks. I couldn't make out their faces from where I was standing, but what I could make out indicated that though their physiology was similar to that of a human, their heads were definitely not. Sloping forehead, horn-like ridges, large brow. It resembled their masks somewhat.
Movement near the bow—maybe, I hadn't had time to brush up on my ship terminology before being kidnapped by space monsters—caught our attention. Wolf slid into a defensive posture, but then relaxed and jogged over to the half-alive humanoid.
First I thought about joining him to see if I could help, but I was afraid I'd only upset both of them. Still, I felt so confused and helpless.
I shimmied along the wall until I was clear of the doorway. My first instinct was to search for more enemies, though Wolf seemed unconcerned. There was a second way out of the bridge: the route the Echo had taken to search for more victims. I watched it, hoping it didn't return. If I wasn't doing anything, I might as well play lookout while he tried to save his friend.
My fault. He'd stopped to save me. If I wasn't with him . . . or maybe I'd kept him alive. Though that was some wishful thinking. I'd just condemned his friends. The guilt gnawed at my insides when I thought about the sacrifice.
Somehow I had to prove to him that I was worth it.
Why hadn't the Echo dragged any victims off for hosts? It had murdered them instead, like it wasn't trying to bring back more hosts for the parasites.
Like it was out for blood.
Wolf spent some time with the last living humanoid, but he didn't have the means to keep him alive. After a while he put his hand over his mask and bowed his head before standing to pick through the others. I remained where I was, content to leave this moment of mourning to him. If his kind mourned their dead. It wasn't like I would know how to offer him comfort if he needed it. It reminded me that my friends were in the ship somewhere, waiting for me.
Two egg chambers had turned up nothing, though. The ship was gigantic, so I didn't know what hope I had of finding them. We were at the front of the ship now, so I figured the chamber I'd been found had been in the middle, so now we'd have to double back the way we'd come if we wanted to keep up the search.
He finished his sweep of the bridge and came back with a new shoulder-mounted cannon and holding a wicked blade. I balked at his approach, watching his posture to see if he'd try to use it on me, ready to turn tail and flee. As he neared, he twisted the grip and held it out to me hilt-first. His shoulders shook with that amused rumbling in his chest; my wariness was a great source of amusement for him. I stared at the weapon for a moment, my face pale.
I was more likely to hurt myself with it than I was anything else.
But, it was what I'd wanted. It was good that it was dangerous-looking. Easy peasy: point the business end of the sword at the enemies.
The blade had a sharp, serrated edge that curved toward the tip. Its grip was the bone fragment of some alien creature, wrapped in a leather-like material. He chittered an encouragement and held it closer to me. I swallowed hard and took it by the hilt, surprised at how light it actually was. I'd overcompensated for the weight, thinking it'd be heavy, but it was the same as my dad's baseball bats.
"Th-thank you," I said, surprised he handed it over without much fuss.
He'd put it off for so long, maybe because he hadn't had one to spare. Which body had he taken it off? Would they be okay with a human using it? Though I supposed since they were dead it didn't matter. I gave it a few practice swings and he made an irritated sound, then pushed me forward, skirting around the edge of the bridge toward the other exit.
"Are we going after that thing?" I asked.
His low hiss told me yes.
"Is it killing for food?" I glanced over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of his dead comrades, but he moved into my view before pushing me down the hall. I figured the answer would be a no, since the bodies seemed to be intact. For the most part.
I grunted and shoved him back when he was too rough with me, earning a swift palm-heel-strike to my shoulder blade.
"Ow, hey!"
Now I was in more of a bad mood than I had been, but I still had questions. "Is it killing because you guys are a threat?"
Again he hissed an affirmative.
We forged onward, following after the faint sounds of the Echo. We were always so far behind it, and Wolf pressed us faster and faster until we were a pace slower than sprinting. I didn't know if we'd be able to kill the Echo with just the two of us, but Wolf seemed confident—or maybe foolhardy, eager to kill the thing that was running around murdering his friends. But if he and the others hunted nests full of these things, that meant he could kill at least one on his own, right?
There was something wrong, though—besides how awkward it was to run in the boots I was wearing. It started as a tickle in the back of my throat, the occasional cough. Then, as we moved through the other side of the ship back toward the center, it became a tightness in my chest that made running even more difficult.
"Wait. Wait I can't . . . I can't breathe," I gasped, reaching out with my free hand toward his back. I had been falling behind at a steady pace, my chest tight and searing. It wasn't from sprinting, that I knew. Not after years and years of conditioning.
He stopped, rattling in displeasure, but came back for me nonetheless.
You're slowing him down.
With my hands atop my head to open my airways, I drew in breath after breath, ignoring the nagging voice in my head. Instead of refreshing oxygen, I breathed in a lungful of burning air. I wheezed with surprise and spluttered into a coughing fit, doubling over. My chest felt as if it was full of fire, and tears welled at the corners of my eyes. I should have been fine, I should have been able to run much longer but—
The air, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't run.
Wolf watched me for a second, then opened up his wrist com and punched in a command. He clapped me over the back and I stumbled to keep from falling from on my face.
Vents on the ceiling hissed and cool air filtered into the hallway. I took several deep breaths until the stitch in my side ebbed and I could finally fill my lungs. The fire in my chest guttered but didn't extinguish. I'd been able to ignore it before, though. It had been a minor convenience up until now, but maybe the air was more pure, the hull not as compromised as it had been.
Maybe it was just because I hadn't been running before, hadn't been breathing as hard.
"I'm . . . I'm okay," I insisted. I straightened and swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth. "I can . . . usually run longer than that but . . . I couldn't breathe. Your air?"
With a great sigh, he nodded.
"Will you be okay with the air I can breathe?" I asked, uncertain why it concerned me.
He tapped his mask and turned his head to show the wires attached to it. I made an "o" shape with my mouth and nodded: his mask would filter the air for him. I had no such device. And neither did my friends. Were they suffocating somewhere, locked in a room?
But I couldn't think about that. I had to believe that I'd be able to find them at some point, and they'd be okay. To distract myself while I recovered, I asked him more questions.
"Is that big one laying the eggs?"
No, he grunted. Before I could ask, he brought up his computer again and swiped another command. A second later, he was projecting a hologram for me. I was hit with a brief wave of heat as the cross-section of one of the serpents materialized.
It was not unlike the others wandering around all over the place. The picture made it hard to judge size, but it appeared longer, taller. This alien was more insect-like than the others with muscular back legs and more than one set of arms. Instead of the smooth, elongated heads of the others, it sported a huge crest. Like a triceratops.
After a moment I realized I'd seen it somewhere before.
"This . . . ," I tried to gather my thoughts before continuing. "This is the thing you have on the wall back in the room?"
Wolf nodded and pressed another button and a new hologram flickered to life. It was of the same giant beast, but instead it was hunched over as if in sleep; behind it a huge sack spat out eggs one at a time. The hologram shimmered and revealed a large hologram of the ova, then he turned it off.
If the egg sack was any indication, this creature was so much bigger than the serpents. At least that explained where all the eggs were coming from. They didn't reproduce or lay eggs themselves, but relied on that alien. They were the warriors, and this thing was their queen. Termites, ants, bees. . . . They all did the same thing.
My eyes widened and I echoed my thoughts to Wolf. "A queen? Is this a giant hive?" I coughed once, dispelling the last of the strange air I'd been breathing earlier. I took a few more deep breaths of the cool, refreshing oxygen-rich breeze and relief flowed through me.
Nodding, he let his fist fall and the hologram disappeared.
A queen. He and some others had their skulls as the centerpiece to their showcases. The queen would be the toughest and biggest of the entire hive, a last line of defense. Killing one of those wouldn't be an easy feat . . . . So they were the sign of rank and prestige.
Wolf had two of them and I wondered what rank that made him.
But if the queen laid the eggs, then how did the Echo start the gravy train? If it didn't lay eggs, then it must have found some way to repopulate. I couldn't fathom how, and yes or no questions wasn't going to suffice. It would just have to be a mystery.
His gaze didn't leave me for a moment, and then he motioned for me to keep going.
"Yes, sorry. I'm good now, thank you." I mocked a salute and followed him onward. The Echo had pulled ahead of us again, and its bellowing wail vibrated the air. Another, similar cry met that one, joined by the screeches of the drones.
They were communicating, but I couldn't fathom what about.
Listening carefully, I tried to figure out where they were and how far. I wasn't mentally prepared to fight something so huge; I'd need time to find my center.
The weapon he'd given me was foreign and daunting, and I didn't know how to use it right. The grip was even a bit uncomfortable and irregular-shaped, but my hand was starting to acclimate to it. The question still remained about whether or not I'd be able to kill anything with it.
But how hard could it be? Swing and slice and there you go. Easy. If I could swing a bat, I could swing a sword. It wasn't like I'd be jousting with some seasoned fencer. They'd be mindless beasts.
Ripe for the chopping.
As I tried to pick up the noises of the monster, there was something else on the draft, wafting through the halls toward us. A familiar sound, full of fear. . . . A sound that tightened my chest and threatened to bring tears to my eyes.
I'd heard it in the woods, and it echoed in the recesses of my mind still. A sound that I'd likely hear when all this was over, if I lived.
One that would haunt me forever.
Wolf's faltering steps told me he recognized the sound, too. He hadn't quite stopped yet, but was slowing down in front of me.
I stopped moving, head down and ears straining.
I stopped breathing, trying to limit other idle sounds.
On baited breath I waited. Wolf slowed to a stop ahead of me but I was only vaguely aware of him and his ambient clicking. When I heard it again, my chest swelled and I dared to inhale. The sound meant so many bad things, but at that moment, it also meant hope. Wolf was looking at me, head tilted, but I paid him no mind.
A human scream.
Female.
Before I could overthink it, my legs were carrying me forward. I shot past Wolf and he trilled after me, but I ignored him. My body moved of its own accord, driven forward by the familiarity of the cry. By all the things it promised and all the things it threatened.
I came to a stop at an intersecting hallway, head turned to listen. The Echo was down one way and the human was screaming in an another.
Easy choice.
Wolf growled near me, but I was off and running again. Adrenaline had gifted me a second wind.
Someone was alive, and as I made my way closer to the source of the screams for help, I came to realize that it was more than just a scream, more than a cry for help.
That voice, calling for someone . . . . I knew it. I knew it so well it hurt.
It tugged at my heart, planting seeds of both hope and panic in my brain. I ignored the vestiges of breathlessness and pushed myself into a full sprint, desperate to reach the voice and the second chance of life it meant for them.
And my own second chance.
To make things right, to make up for what I'd done in the woods. I just had to hurry.
Jess! Jess I'm coming!
