Chapter 17

In the minutes upon taking flight, Vegeta had reassured himself that the only thing he desired to do was to kill the blue haired banshee, only after she told him where she had taken his Dragonballs. His own desires for power were always the strongest force inside of him and no feelings as weak and fleeting as lust could sway him. The Dragonballs were his, and once he found them all, he would make sure to include another trip back to Earth to finally eradicate the source of all his troubles; namely earthling existence.

In the distance his eyes spotted a squat piece of land floating amidst the ruined and broken islands of Namek. The large gaping cave tickled his nerves, sending waves of anxiousness through him at the thought of bloodshed. His first instinct was to locate the woman there, where he had first found her. If she was not there, the area would still prove to be sufficient for clues as to her whereabouts. The cluster of the humans seemed to have taken dwelling there as he recalled.

Vegeta's boots made no sound upon landing on the dead ground under him. His eyes narrowed as he scoured the land, looking for any distinct movement. His ears listened for any sound, a thumping heart, and heaving breath, or trampling feet. Nothing remotely reached his senses.

"Not here. Damn."

Sniffing the air, he could taste the temperatures of battle, smog and magnetic explosions; Ki blasts. They still smelled fresh. However above it all, he could smell a discrete smell, a fragrant saturation that was thick and heavy. A womanly scent. She had been here, and recently.

His upper lip turned into a smirk, proud that his natural Saiyan instincts had served him well in tracking his prey so quickly. She was only steps ahead of him. Moving forward, Vegeta deemed it to search the area. The outside of the cave held little but a turned over lawn chair and a mountain of magazines and was that a…bathing unit?

Blinking and shaking his head at the odd article, Vegeta entered into the mouth of the cave, his hawk-like eyes already adjusting to the change, black pupils growing wide and dominant. There he found what was sure the human's dwelling; a large dome shaped structure he guessed passed as an abode on planet Earth. Vegeta made his way to the door (which he noticed with a raise of the brow was wide open), kicking over every useless little device lying around. The door creaked silently as he took his first step in. Immediately Vegeta's nose was assaulted with the heavy stench of alcohol. Vegeta frowned as he walked in further, his feet making a crunch sound as they stepped on something. Looking down he notices a small aluminum can. Reaching down Vegeta picked it up. He frowned when he realized he did not recognize the print, but it gave away where the smell had come from; it positively reeked of alcohol.

Upon landing on Earth Vegeta had made it a point to learn the most popular languages the planet had including Chinese, Spanish, English, and Arabic. It would figure the few humans he had the most trouble with weren't native to those dialects. He was just fortunate they at least could speak English.

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta crushed the can in his hand and threw it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. His eyes roamed over the inside surface, looking for anything that might be of some use to him, or any hints as to where the blue human had run off to. He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. A cream colored table in front of a large screen monitor, a small kitchen area, and two doors down the hall. However, one thing the whole area seemed to have excess of was trash.

"These humans live like animals." Vegeta grumbled as he looked about, seeing more of the tin cans and wrappers of food lying about everywhere. Everywhere. Upon every countertop and space of floor. It was disgusting.

Kicking trash away as he marched through the home, Vegeta entered the kitchen area. If asked, he would have said he was checking to see if there might be something worth looking for there, not the sudden excited pull his stomach made at the possible presence of something edible. With a curl of his brow he noticed nothing remarkable lying around the otherwise messy kitchenette. There were dirty dishes filling up the sink and on the counters, empty cardboard boxes and food cans and wrappers, fruit peelings and stale bread and some odd slop otherwise glued to the table. Not wanting to dirty his gloves any further (they were already caked on with dried blood and dirt) Vegeta avoided going through the mess and walked towards the large storage unit in the corner. He vaguely noticed it resembled the small white contraption the woman had stored her food in.

Vegeta's fingers itched to open the apparatus and grabbed the handle. It easily gave way and his body was fleetingly chased with a chill as the door opened. His dreams however were crashed when he noticed the only thing inside was a carton of small eggs and a yellow stick of goo, which smelt like salt. Grumbling, Vegeta slammed the freezing unit shut a little harder than what it could take, for the machine rattled and shook.

Next was the hallway that led into a bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was an ever flowing mess. Clothes covered most of the floor as well as more of the cans of the alcoholic beverage. There was a large dresser to the right, upon which rested a large vanity mirror, no doubt tortured by its owner vainly spending hours preening in it. Vegeta tugged open a drawer and dumped its contents all over the floor. Like it mattered much, it hardly made a difference in the already chaotic room. Articles of clothing spilled out of all shapes and sizes; everything from bright orange to plaid to a hideous bright pink number. One of the drawers held an assortment of bottles, lotions, powers, and things he recognized as woman's cosmetic supplies. He also discovered a ring of keys, which Vegeta studied closely before pocketing; you never know what importance they held.

The top drawer opened and Vegeta stuck his hand in, pulling out its contents in an agitated manner, it seemed there was nothing of real value and he was growing quite bored. His hand ran across something smooth and thin. Curious, Vegeta pulled it out and blinked at the small black tiny scrap of cloth, which he immediately recognized as a woman's undergarments. Vegeta sneered and threw it over his shoulder, not even bothering to wonder why such a useless garment needed to have so much damn lace and ruffles. His hands found another article of clothing, but this time he stared dumbfounded at the device. It was black like the other garment, but it was built differently, with straps and padding.

Unsure of what its purpose was, Vegeta held it up and tried to picture what the idiotic female could possibly use the thing for. As he held it up, he noticed how easily the straps rested against his fingers like shoulders, and when held in such a way the two cups in the front looked a lot like…

A sudden redness touched Vegeta's cheeks and the tip of his nose at the winking image his thoughts gave him. Growling mad, he tossed the device over his shoulder and continued looking about. The bed was covered with mounds of clothes, which Vegeta shoved aside easily. Nothing there. Not a damn thing.

Vegeta quickly lost patience. He was beyond frustrated with not finding anything of use in the small dome. Nothing but useless trinkets and garbage. In anger Vegeta lashed out and kick the bed, sending it flying across the room and crashing down on the dresser mirror. The shattering it made made him feel a little bit better. When the bed came crashing back down to the floor, Vegeta surveyed the damage he had caused and a small smirk hitched his face. He briefly wondered what the woman would think if she returned to see the destruction he caused. She always did have this utterly amusing look on her face whenever she got mad.

Something gleaming caught his eyes and he turned to look at the now destroyed mirror. However it wasn't the tiny fragments of glass that caught his attention. No, where the mirror once stood complete now revealed a metal door. A safe.

Smirking, Vegeta made his way over to the dresser. A splinter sized wave of energy was all it took to melt the lock and make it useless. Vegeta spent the time it took taking off the melted thing ridiculing human innovations and their inability to sustain a little Ki. The door easily shifted open revealing a small container. Reaching in, Vegeta pulled it out and looked over the container in his hand, once again cursing when he couldn't read the script. He found a latch and opened it, inside lay twelve little capsules. Vegeta recognized them instantly as the small storage devices the woman was prattling on and on about.

He pocketed these too, and quickly left the trashed house. Vegeta stood outside the cave and let the breeze carry the fresh scents under his nose again. There was a battle here and since there seemed to be no smell of death, could mean that his victim was taken alive by someone. He was almost sure that it was Freeza behind it. Cursing, Vegeta flew into the air and turned east, he needed to find a way to steal the little bitch back before she blabbed to Freeza where she had taken his Dragonballs.

Bulma found herself silent, something any of her friends would tell you she definitely was not. However, she felt no urge to vocalize her discomfort, her hunger, lack of appropriate state of dress, or need of a bath. The Ginyu members had a way of making her feel small and docile, for their over-arrogance and domineering presence shrunk her to the size of an ant. Bulma had been through a lot in her life time, but rape was something she had never experienced and the close call she had gotten was enough to scare her into submission, and so she remained silent.

She couldn't even focus on what the bolstering idiots were saying to her and though Recoome's arms were fastened tightly around her in protection, she felt nothing if more anxious and uneasy. She didn't know how long they were flying, but eventually they came to a stop in front of what looked like a giant space ship. Bulma, ever the scientific mind, temporarily forgot her fear in favor of staring at the space craft with keen awe. It was large and circular, almost disc shaped, and the hilarity of the typical UFO resemblance didn't go unnoticed by her.

As she stared, having a million and one questions and theories running through her head, she was faintly aware as Recoome began to walk. She was still wrapped securely in his big grip. Bulma could have stayed like that for hours, just looking at the large ship, yearning to run inside and analyze it like a sixth grader in science class for the first time being able to dissect a dead frog.

"Well? Is that it?"

The creaky voice made Bulma jump and she quickly looked for the source. Her eyes fell onto a sickly looking creature that sat in a hovering chair. It had long black horns and purple lips, skin looking scaly and pale. Though he looked like a skeleton, weak and brittle, like he would snap in half if he came out of his chair. Maybe that was the case. She didn't take long to stare at it though, for it wasn't very interesting to look at, and so, Bulma went back to observing the space craft.

"Well, is it?" It repeated, sounding more annoyed. Its voice sounded just as frail as its body did; light and cracked, like an old woman's.

"Yes Master Freeza," Said Ginyu after hesitating.

The name hit her like a bomb dropped. Her eyes grew comically wide and Bulma had to hold in her breath before she made a loud gasp. Her eyes immediately turned to stare at the creature again with new fascination. Its beady red eyes gleamed at her and regarded her like a pet, something on display he was observing from a glass window. They were dark and pinned her to her spot (not as if she could go anywhere anyway). This was Freeza?

That couldn't be right. This thing was small and bony and wispy and well…it definitely wasn't intimidating to say the least. Bulma's mind had put a face to the awful name Freeza once she had heard Vegeta utter it with such morbid disdain and fear. She had depicted a large creature and gaping fangs and bulging muscles, a large snout and a terrifying voice that shook the ground and echoed in the mountains.

To say the least, Bulma was surprised.

Recoome walked forward and set Bulma with care down onto the ground. Immediately, Bulma crossed her arms, hiding her breasts that were exposed because of her ripped shirt.

The creature, which Bulma had to forcefully remind herself, was actually the terrifying Freeza, floated closer to her in his hover chair. His eyebrow, or the flap of scaly skin that was where the eyebrow should have been if he had hair, rose with curiosity. Bulma's eyes locked onto his, never wavering.

Then its lips curled up.

"What an ugly species." It rasped. Bulma caught the sight of a purple tongue slithering about as he spoke. "They look almost as hideous as those Saiyans did. Humanoids are among the most repulsive creatures I have ever seen."

One of its scaly hands came down and Bulma flinched. His touch was cold, like that of a corpse, against her cheek. She had to bite her lip to keep from squealing out. She knew it would get her killed otherwise. The hand then moved aggressively into her hair, grabbing a handful and yanking. Here Bulma did make a soft sound in protest, wondering why everyone kept doing that. She saw its eyes drop to the rest of her and then its lips bend into a frown again and Bulma felt her heartbeat race, the loud thudding reaching her ears.

"I thought you told me it was with child." Freeza's voice was crisp and sharp with irritation.

"She was Master Freeza, we had seen it." Ginyu spoke up again. "We believe she might be hiding the youngling or maybe her gestation…"

Freeza inhaled deeply by her ear and then snarled, throwing her away from him. She went sprawling across the dirt.

"You morons! She was never with child!"

The Ginyu force all cringed and took a step back.

"But…but, it's the truth!" It was Jeice this time, that insufferable bastard. Bulma's eyes glared wickedly at him, plotting out his slow death.

Freeza looked unconvinced. "Shut up, all of you." He glared at them and Bulma took some humor in seeing all of the proud and strong Ginyu Force shrinking back with their tails between their legs.

"You just proved to me how incapable you are at following my prestigious orders." Freeza growled low in his throat, at least that's what she thought it was, it could have been his regular voice, Bulma couldn't really tell.

Freeza's eyes then darted down and stared at her. Immediately her eyes locked with his and her breath hitched. She didn't like the way this thing looked at her, and didn't like the slow forming curl of his small lips.

"But still, she may still have her uses. We may still be able to use her to our advantage to get Vegeta." He was talking more at her rather than to her.

Bulma didn't dare disagree with him. Even though she knew his statement about Vegeta was false, she wasn't going to admit it to him. Right now it was the only thing keeping her alive, and she knew if she told Freeza that she meant nothing to Vegeta, he would kill her in an instant.

"Take it away. Get it something to wear; the sight of it is sickening."

Bulma began struggling as Recoome took off towards the ship she was so fascinated with earlier, with her in his bulky arms. The ship opened in a very clichéd like manor, a hatch opened from some unseen crease in the exterior, and they walked in. The inside halls were thin and cramped. The floors were tiled and florescent lights hung from the sides of the wall rather than the ceiling. Bulma gave up struggling as she studied the inside, hoping to catch an eyeful inside the doors they passed. There were strange creatures in all different shapes, sizes and colors, all in similar armor. Her eyes landed on one room they past full of equipment that immediately caught her attention. She found herself self-consciously trying to pull herself free to go explore there.

When they reached a specific room, Recoome released her and grinned at her.

"Here you go lady. You stay here and Recoome will find you something to wear."

Bulma could only give a half hearted smile that didn't reach her eyes and nodded at the gentle giant. She was glad at least that she was being treated nicely by Recoome, it gave her a sense of appreciation and gratitude. He didn't have to be so pleasant to her, and she was very grateful. Sadly however, the room he had left her in was barren of anything that would catch her scientific eye. She grumped slightly and crossed her arms and looked out one of the windows.

It only took a few minutes before Recoome bounded back into the room, brandishing clothing with a triumphant look on his face.

"Here ya go, girlie, somethin' for you to wear." He smiled brightly at her and Bulma looked at what he chose. It was a black latex suit and dark green armor. Oh, perfect. "I picked out the colors myself."

Not wanting to look ungrateful, which she really wasn't; she had no right to be picky after all, for it was either this or walk around half naked.

"Thanks." She gave another half smile and accepted the clothing with one hand; the other was covering her breast.

Recoome gave that unnaturally wide grin.

"Can, can I ask you something?' Bulma asked quietly, almost regretting saying anything the minute her weak voice echoed the room.

Recoome looked at her peculiarly then nodded his head.

"Why are you being so nice to me? You hardly know me and yet, this is the nicest I have been treated by anyone in a long time." It was true. Bulma almost forgot what it felt like to be treated like a human being after landing on Namek.

Recoome shook his head and shrugged. "You're different. Real different from the other girls I met." He said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked.

"Well, you are still innocent. You're not spiteful and you still have spirit, not like those whores hanging around here practically dead. It's been a while since I saw life in a woman before. You also look like me, like my kind."

The confession touched her and also frightened her.

"My squad always picks on me because I never played around with the whores here. On my planet, woman who showed strength and spirit were considered beautiful, powerful and worthy, good wife material. But the girls here just walk around with dead eyes and spread their legs to anyone; it gives me the creeps."

"Where is your planet?"

Recoome kept smiling. "It's far from here. I miss it there. Aushura is a large planet, real pretty and blue, like you." He blushed slightly, something that looked incredibly odd on the hulk. "Maybe one day I will take you there."

"Maybe." Bulma said quietly. It was odd talking to someone who worked for Freeza. He seemed almost too nice to work here.

"If you like it so much, how come you work for Freeza?" Bulma couldn't help but ask.

"Recoome had no choice." The giant looked at his feet. "My kind don't fight much. We are a race of workers; farmers and blacksmiths. The day Master Freeza came he rounded a bunch of us together to work for him. He thought we would do better as fighters and made us all fight our fellow brothers to death. I was the victor." Bulma noticed the small sad smile he gave.

"I had no choice but to work for him, my family had little money and this job pays good. I worked hard and soon I was in the Ginyu Squad, one of the highest positions. Pretty cool, huh?"

Bulma didn't agree.

"So you enjoy working for Freeza?"

Recoome frowned and sighed. "Recoome would be lying if he says he hasn't enjoyed it sometimes. But working with Ginyu is hard. He is mean and merciless like Saiyan Vegeta, so is Recoome's other team mates. They pick fun at me for it."

"So you don't like working in the Ginyu Force then?"

Recoome looked up at her, his mouth opened like he was going to admit it, then he just smiled and shook his head in a dismissive action.

"Like I said, it pays good. Recoome can afford to keep family from slavery back home."

Bulma took all this in and then nodded her head. When Recoome saw that her questioning was done, his smile brightened again into that impossibly wide grin and waved good bye.

"Get dressed, I'll see you soon pretty lady."

Then he left.

Bulma looked at her given outfit and sighed. She carefully shredded the rest of her clothing and put on the skin tight suit. It was almost a complete copy of the one she was formerly wearing with her yellow outfit, only the material was alien to her. It felt like latex, or plastic, but it was surprisingly warm and soft. Then she slipped on the green armored plate. She knew of its stretchy nature when she first removed Vegeta's armor to tend to his back. It fascinated her really, and she couldn't wait to get home and tinker around with the alien wear. She slipped on the boots and gloves then tucked in all her capsules into her breastplate and then admired herself in her window's reflection. Bulma couldn't help but be amused at how she looked. She looked like one of the bad guys. To add effect, Bulma frowned and crossed her arms, mimicking the pose she had seen Vegeta do time and time again. She couldn't contain her laughter however and burst into giggles as the sight.

Suddenly she heard the swishing of the automatic doors and Bulma quickly turned to see the intruder. It was some alien she couldn't identify. He was lizard like, different from whatever species Freeza was. Its face was long and snout extended and there was a lack of horns. It also spoke with a perceivable hiss.

"Master Freeza issss expecting you." It rasped and she caught sight of sharp jagged teeth.

Before Bulma had a time to argue, it grasped her wrist and pulled her down the hall. She was taller than the creature, probably a good two heads actually, and she found that she could in fact fight against him. It surprised her that he was so weak, being man handled by so many of Freeza's fighters she expected them all to be macho powerful. This one was pitifully weak however. She noticed its white coat over the armor it wore and came to the conclusion that it must have been a researcher, not a fighter.

Bulma's eyes caught a little flicker of orange and she immediately turned to the source. There, in one of the rooms lay five orange glimmering Dragonballs.

A completely empty, unguarded room.

They made it down the halls until they came to a double door. They slid open and the lizard creature tugged her in. Bulma stared anxiously at the shadowed form of Freeza, who was smiling at her in a way that was anything but pleasant.

"Well my dear, I must say that your arrival on this planet was unconventional, but I am pleased that it can in fact benefit me." Freeza announced.

Bulma couldn't find her voice to speak.

"I will skip introductions since I am completely aware that by now you know who I am and I have no interest in knowing your name. You know of the Saiyan by the name of Vegeta, correct?'

Bulma could only nod.

"Excellent. Now would you be so kind as to make my job much easier and tell me where the simian is hiding?"

"I-I don't know where he is…sir." Bulma mumbled out, biting her lip.

Freeza looked angered by this. "What was that?"

"I said I don't know where he is, sir." It was the truth; Bulma had no clue where Vegeta was.

Freeza's hover chair zoomed closer to her and Bulma held her breath. He glared at her angrily and it almost caused her to whimper at how dangerous it was.

"Let me explain something to you." He hissed out. "I don't tolerate liars, not one bit. If you don't tell me where Vegeta is hiding and where he has hidden my Dragonballs you will regret ever meeting him and myself, do I make myself clear?"

The tip of his tail, god his ugly scaly tail that looked like a wriggling maggot, curved around her face and against her cheek, slicing it open and drawing out her rich blood. She didn't even know his tailed was that sharp.

"I swear to you I don't know where he is. I- I ran off and left him by some river hours ago. I don't know where he is. I don't." Her voice was shaking with panic. This was unlike Vegeta. With Vegeta there was terror, but also hope, she knew he wouldn't kill her because he had uses for her. Freeza however didn't, and he would kill her.

"Lying cunt!"

His tail, quick as a whip, slashed across her and sent her flying across the room with a howl. Her back smashed against the wall, forming a dent. Bulma crashed against the floor, a larger bleeding wound gave birth on her face, this time reaching across the first wound, crosswise her nose, and stopping right under her left eye.

She whimpered as her hand went up to shield her face, feeling the warm blood grow cold against her fingers. It wasn't shallow. It was likely to scar.

"I will give you one more chance to save yourself. I don't enjoy games, especially with warm blooded animals. Where is Vegeta?"

Bulma whimpered, unable to keep the tears from coming. The salt from her tears stung her wounds, only making her cry harder.

"I told you, you sick fuck, I don't know where he is!" Bulma screamed out until her throat stung. She didn't care at that moment. Didn't care that she had just insulted the most powerful creature in the universe, didn't care that she lay there defenseless, bleeding and crying in front a room full of alien creatures. She was going to die, and she knew it. What difference did it make?

Freeza's face showed nothing but unflinching cold and mercilessness. "Kill her." He stated gravelly, with little to no emotion beyond dead bitterness. "She's a useless bag of warm flesh. We can find Vegeta by other means."

Bulma only continued to whimper on the floor, holding her still bleeding face. She curled into a ball and awaited her death. What a pitiful ending for herself. She heard the footsteps of someone walking towards her and through her bloodied fingers looked to see the grinning face of Jeice.

He cracked his knuckles and gleamed at her. The sick bastard. Anyone but him, why couldn't she be killed by anyone but him? She whimpered louder and pulled herself tighter, dropping her head into her lap to hide from the room.

If Bulma had in fact looked about the room instead, she would have noticed the tightening fists of the giant Recoome. She would have noticed the way his teeth were gnashing together and eyes painted over with a glowing look that spelled death. She would have also then noticed how he eventually snapped, like a rubber band with too much strain, and flung himself at Jeice, knocking them both into the opposite wall with a loud crash.

Jumping from the loud banging, Bulma peeked up though her bloody hands and saw the hulking giant, the gentle big fool that had rescued her, restraining her executioner by the throat against the wall.

"Run."

It was barely a growl, it was uttered too low in his throat, so veiled with anger and seething rage that she laid paralyzed on the spot.

"Run!" Recoome bellowed louder, enough to scare her into jumping up and making a dash for the door. She barely caught the sight of Recoome smashing into anyone who tried to stop her like a steam truck, knocking over his comrades like dominoes. Her last view of the room was of Freeza screaming at them to stop her, and Recoome ripping the head off of Guldo in a maddening spray of green spurting blood.

In a heartbeat, Bulma was barreling down the corridors as fast as she could. Her mind didn't even catch up to think where she was going, the only thought in her head was to run and don't look behind her and don't stop. Bulma once again caught sight of the gleam of the Dragonballs, and she skidded to a stop. She ran into the room and gaped at the five balls. There was no way she could possibly carry them all, but it seemed like a crying shame to leave them all here, right in front of her face, taunting her. In the distance, Bulma could hear the smashing and yelling of the fight just down the hall. She didn't have much time. Biting her lip, Bulma grabbed just one and made a dash out the hall and into the door that would lead her to freedom. She banged onto it, for it wouldn't open on her command.

Bulma cried out in desperation and pounded on the metal, screaming and crying tears of hopeless desperation.

"Oh, come on!" It was gasped out and pitiful, wrenching from her throat in frantic and distressing pile of broken words. She gave up on the door and ran to one of the windows. The glass was thick; no way could she smash it. Bulma looked at the Dragonball in her hands and then held it up over head, and smashed it against the glass.

It didn't smash open but, oh, what luck, there was a crack! The fighting down the hall was getting louder and more terrifying. With a face covered with blood and tears, Bulma held up the Dragonball once again and brought it down onto the window. More spider web cracks began to bloom and with each smash, more hope and desperation grew inside of her. With one final smash the window caved in, showering the ground with thousands of bits of broken glass. There was a loud explosion and more angry voices. Too hysterical to concentrate, Bulma lifted herself up on the window, screaming out in pain when she grasped the ledge that still had a large piece of glass on it. It ripped through her glove and wedged into her skin, cutting clean through like butter, and staying there.

She ignored it and tumbled ungracefully out of the window, going into a roll as she landed on the ground below. Whimpering and crawling through the fragments of glass, some of which tore into her suit and scraped her legs and knees, Bulma grabbed the Dragonball and then reached into her breastplate. Bulma pulled out her capsules and quickly found the one she was looking for. The angry voices grew louder and she could hear footsteps in the hallway. Bulma opened up her hover bike and tore the headband aggressively from her head. She quickly tied it around the gas pedal and then searched for the keys. The footsteps were loudly approaching.

Bulma's hysterical tears flowed as she tried to find the keys. Where had she put them? Then it struck her. They were in the pocket of her skirt, which was lying forgotten on the cold tiled floor in the ship. Bulma gave a wail of utter dread and terror and tears came out harder. She had all but given up as she fumbled towards her bike. She had to calm down and use her scientific mind. The voices were almost discernable in the distance and quickly approaching her direction.

With a face covered with blood and tears, sweat and snot, Bulma fiddled with the wires under her bike's steering wheel. She had hotwired cars hundreds of times in her youth and yet because of her hysterics and hasty movements, she kept shaking and couldn't get it to work. Another loud explosion rocked the earth just as Bulma finally succeeded. The engine purred with life and immediately took off into the sky, leaving a smoking trail. Bulma squealed happily and then picked up the Dragonball, taking off in the other direction on foot.

Bulma watched as Freeza's men bound out of the ship and, at sighting the vehicle in the sky, took off immediately after it. With her bike able to reach speeds as high as 250 miles per hour, she knew it would be a while until they could catch it. Shakily Bulma limped as fast as she could away from the cursed ship, breathing in gasps of air her body so desperately needed. She got about one hundred yards before her adrenalin ran out and the heavy lose of blood finally got to her. She stumbled and tripped over a jutted rock and fell boneless into the water with a splash. She could only stare, her reflexes shot and dead, as the Dragonball slipped from her grasp and sunk into the depth of the lake. And then everything slithered into darkness.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It's been hard finding time to write, but like I promised, I am still writing! I must be honest and say I am not really happy with the chapter. I didn't have much time to really edit it, so if there are a lot of errors, I apologize. I also felt like my love of horror movies really showed through in this one. Yeah, poor Bulma, I don't know why I torture her so much. Thanks to all still sticking with this story, you all are great.