In His Alien Hands (3 page)

Tray smiled at the women who passed him while shoveling a heaping spoonful of food into his mouth. Meadow knew the captain never went without; he’d throw his own men under the bus for a moldy cupcake. He was a fat, short man with a disgusting mole on the end of his nose. So ugly only one woman lowered her standards to sleep with him. Her plump face was buried in another plate of beans and crumbs the captain allowed her to have as long as she remained his adoring lackey of anything the prick did.

Meadow was thankful she hadn’t eaten. The sight of Captain Tray made her want to barf. When he moved to toss his plate in the sink his ass cheeks bounced as though they battled wild animals beneath the cloth. He and the woman reminded Meadow of Jabba the Hutt and his shoulder minion; characters in an old movie played repeatedly onboard to pass the time during the first six months until the power was gone. Ginger hurried Meadow along inside as she couldn’t stop her distasteful glare at the weasel and his bitch as they strolled out of the galley, leaving Meadow and the others to do preparations at stations.

“Never mind them. What goes around comes around,” Ginger said.

“Well, they certainly are ‘around’,” Meadow quipped, then sighed. “I have nothing against overweight people. Even amidst the starving ones who grow thinner day by day. Before the world went to shit my friend Carrie was portly. She was beautiful inside and out and knew it, it’s what I loved about her, her self-confidence. It’s that bastard who makes me angry. His sense of self-importance. He steals from innocents. He takes the food right out of their mouths and hurts their children with his sense of entitlement. I hate the way he makes me feel, as though I’d love to see him drown. I would too. I shouldn’t waste my breath on him, but he’s in my face day after day.”

“I know, Meadow. One day he’ll get his. I feel kinda sorry for his bitch though. She’s brainwashed into thinking his shit don’t stink.”

“I don’t feel sorry for her. I hope she ends up in the sewer-ocean with him and his shit.”

Ginger offered her a cocky grin. Meadow sighed and smiled back.

Meadow was put on the preparing crew. She despised that team. Handling the food the passengers never saw was sad. Only a few others besides the pirates were privy to decent food. The doctor aboard was given better rations. The Hippocratic Oath went out the window the second pirates offered her a sweeter deal. Dr. Wader’s nurse was another. The rotund woman had a mouth as big as her ass.
Do no harm
was a fictional fantasy aboard the vessel.

There were too many hateful things to think about if Meadow let her mind linger on stupid fools who weren’t important enough to waste her time on. After a while, as the food dwindled to nothing, even the doctor and nurse would pay the price. They chose to join ranks with those who would be their undoing. At one time in life everyone stood on a precipice. A scary place where one met their maker whether they believed or not.

“Uh-oh,” Ginger whispered. “You’ve got that
I’m gonna do something dumb for the sake of humanity
look on your face.”

“Evil triumphs in this horrible place.”

“Even good men can do nothing when weaponless,” Ginger retorted.

“Who says we’re weaponless? When pressed you can find the strangest of weapons anywhere.”

Meadow cast her gaze around the room, noting where the pirates stood or sat. Many flirted with women they knew would do something for them for a small bit of food. Meadow saw Kitty, a promiscuous woman, flirting with a large man. He dangled a butter-slathered biscuit in front of her, and she took a bite before licking his fingers. Kitty was a good person. Her behavior just because she didn’t want to starve to death didn’t define her character. She always gave away her rations above deck when chosen among those to eat. She knew once below there would be a pirate to fill her belly either before or after he filled her pussy. Kitty saw Meadow motion with her eyes. All it took was a luscious swing of Kitty’s hips and she had the attention of a number of men.

The beefcake holding the biscuit became disgruntled by the others’ attention. She furthered her efforts until one by one many others were vying for her. Kitty winked at Meadow, acknowledging she was in, and up for whatever Meadow had in mind.

The galley window on deck was open. Meadow eased her way toward the bread lining the tables. She snatched one and tucked it inside her jacket. While Kitty attracted more pirates Meadow broke off a chunk of bread, and each person nearest her took a turn walking in front of Meadow as she eased her way to the window without bringing attention to them. She reached out and handed a piece to the hand that reached in. The bread was grabbed in less than a second. Meadow never saw the face of the person she fed. All of the innocent people on deck knew when it was Meadow’s turn to help in the kitchen that scraps would find their way out to them.

People made certain to obscure Meadow’s activity as person after person continued to take a turn shielding her actions with pots or trays. When the loaf of bread was depleted Meadow went back for more. The people on deck knew not to make a scene or mad dash for food or no one would be fed and Meadow would be killed. Meadow grabbed another loaf and began to break off small pieces. She wished she could give them meat, but every piece was watched carefully. The bread baker was old and forgetful, or so he claimed. He never counted the loaves. A few more pieces found their way into eager hands.

Just one more.

She knew she was pushing it and her literal window of opportunity was passing. She saw some of the men lose interest in Kitty when it appeared the larger, more interested beefcake would become violent if the men didn’t back off. The last loaf of bread was half gone. Meadow screamed when her wrist was caught and she was yanked off her feet. The ugly face of a pirate grinned at her while hands grabbed her from both inside the cabin and outside the window. Others were snatched and screams followed.

“Thief.”

“You should talk,” Meadow howled. “I’m taking back what’s ours. We were the ones who worked for the ingredients. We loaded the ship and did all the hard work. You just reap our rewards.”

“We’ll see what the captain has to say.”

“Captain Shit Head can kiss my ass,” Meadow screamed.

The pirates in the room began to drag Meadow away until someone yelled. A number of the passengers took advantage of the pirates’ distraction and wolfed down food. Soon food was thrown from the window and there was a mad dash outside. Chaos ensued. Guns fired for only seconds. An eerie silence followed.

“They’re out of God damned ammo,” came a bellow. “Attack, now’s our chance.”

The pirates released Meadow when a number of people came to her rescue. Too long the trodden upon had been abused and used. Revenge, though a dish best served cold, bubbled with heated intensity. The smell of death hung in the air.

“Kill the pirates,” was screamed. “Throw
them
overboard.”

The pirates had been separated and Meadow heard shrieks and the splash of bodies as people outside were tossed overboard. Handfuls of enraged, starving people made their way into the galley. The pirates were killed with knives, pummeled with rolling pins, smashed with pans, until the floor became slick with blood.

A feeding frenzy began as loaves of bread were demolished, people choking while trying to eat the loaves whole. The meat locker was broken into, the lock smashed and the cabinets ripped from the walls. It was anarchy. Canned foods were hacked open and stomped on to reveal the treasure within. Life-sustaining food was finally at hand. Meadow could see the befalling disaster. All of the food would be eaten.

“Wait,” she yelled.

It was too late. Denied for too long, nothing would stop the crowd. Bodies outside continued to hit the water. The safest thing to do was to grab a few loaves of bread and hide until it ended. The bread tucked within her jacket, Meadow made her way topside. A huge pirate was being muscled over the side. He struck out but too many angry people had had enough. He screamed as he went over.

“Sharks,” someone yelled.

A quick pause to tilt her head down into the rumbling water and she was surprised to see dozens of sharks. An eerie feeling filled her belly while wondering if they had followed them all along, waiting and watching. Often enough a body was thrown over as morbid bread crumbs. She swallowed hard and turned away.

Meadow found the woman and children she had given food to earlier and led them to a quiet area. She broke the bread into pieces and the four huddled under a broken lifeboat, waiting for the mass to calm. It was a long wait; the battle to live was the most important battle in anyone’s life. Meadow felt certain satisfaction as the captain was tossed overboard alive, kicking and screaming. The doctor and nurse fought while being dragged to their fate, but it was no use, betrayal of that magnitude would never be forgiven. Over the pair went to a cheer. Overhead the sky opened as though crying. Clouds formed menacing gray waves in the heavens, rolling in surreal fashion.

The storm picked up, turning into one of the worst they had seen. People were tossed sideways, sliding onto the portside then starboard. The bow crashed through mountain-high waves, sending more hapless souls to a watery grave. Just when the passengers had gained their freedom, they were under siege by Mother Nature. And it seemed she intended to take no prisoners.

Chapter 3

Time had no meaning. The bottom of the ocean floor could be so dark in places, so alive in others. Sounds were filtered, and depth perception played with your mind. Arax sat cross-legged on the ocean floor, rocking against the sand, which floated in disturbed clouds that rolled back and forth in small bursts from the tug of the current. Arax was neither warm nor cold. Each breath flowed through his gills. He could feel the current like wet fingers, tugging on his short hair.

Arax waited. Somewhere out there was a tiger shark intent on killing him. The idea was amusing. Rage was a powerful fuel for the sharks while Arax had none. Lately he hadn’t been given the time to think. His new female kept him overwhelmed. For two weeks he had struggled with keeping her alive. His water females didn’t know how to take care of her. Neither did the healer, so Arax kept her with him. Arax soon discovered he wasn’t much better for her than their females. Food was a problem, cleanliness was a problem, safety was exhausting. She was a fighter and the task was daunting but Arax came to realize he needed help. The only way to obtain that help was to break a law and open a portal to Earth and hope a human female had somehow survived to aid him.

The human female Bertha was so helpless. At least he assumed that was the name she’d whispered to him when near death. Day after day her demands wore him down, but he refused her nothing. At first her tears were the only communication he understood. Her speech was gone, replaced by a babbling mess. Her inability to meet any of her own needs kept him in a constant state of panic. She was unable to walk. Objects she held were used clumsily. She was his now. In her new state there was something about her that couldn’t be denied. Her big, green eyes drew him in and held him captive. Never before had any female moved him as much. She needed nothing from him really, nothing except him. Her vulnerability was innocence and helplessness.

She let him hold her and rock her. When tired she demanded his arms around her for comfort. The change of wanting him gone to needing him close was dramatic. He hadn’t been expecting her acceptance of him so quickly, but then again he was all she had. Even now when he sat waiting an attack his thoughts lingered on his precious human female. She was making him daft.

I’m so tired.

When the healer approached him with her memories from their machine Arax was moved to tears. Betrayal the likes never imagined in his world played before him. The monstrosity of human males and females gagged him. Atrocities committed to one so vulnerable was inconceivable in his world. Children were the future. How could one destroy their own future?

The healer was outraged, denouncing humans. Arax couldn’t blame him, but the female wasn’t responsible for another’s actions. The healer agreed she must be kept safe, especially in her state. Arax was adamant he would protect her forever. Or die trying.

What he did now he did for his little female. Within moments Arax knew he had been followed by many, when he was once alone. He wasn’t overly concerned. Crash’s group of sharks were pitiful. There was, however, a greater threat to Arax’s people, a threat that kept him awake at night.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Arax sighed. “Go away, Crash.”

“What is the great water warrior hunting today? What hapless victim do you seek? Surely you won’t risk the wrath of the Castian warriors or Zargonnii who covet humans.”

“I have no intention of harming anything.”

A number of sharks circled Arax. With a single thought a bolt of water lightning formed and sluiced through the water, barely missing Crash, but heating his ass with a sizzle. Crash flipped back. Arax resisted the urge to chuckle. A simple reminder Arax controlled the water, turning the substance into a warrior.

“Parlor tricks,” Crash said and sneered.

“Jealous?” Arax asked, amused.

“Not at all. But I am curious as to what brings us to Earth.”

“I am here for a reason,” Arax said, glancing topside. “You are merely here to annoy me.”

“There is talk of a human female in your castle,” Crash said.

“There is talk you’re uglier than ever. Oh wait, it’s true.”

“Still maintaining a sense of juvenile wit I see.”

“It fits when talking to a juvenile.”

A squealing sound caught both males’ attention. Crash looked up. The underbelly of a massive ship rocked back and forth. Arax scowled at him.

“Hunting, Arax?”

Arax shot another bolt of water. This time he skewered a hammerhead shark’s tail. Crash’s hammerhead bellowed in rage and agony as steam engulfed it.

“Struck a nerve, have we?” Crash asked.

“Seems I’m the only one to strike things,” was Arax’s taunt. Another bolt of water skid across the underside of a great white, leaving a trail of blood.
Playtime is over.
The huge boat overhead creaked as it turned onto its side. Arax heard Crash’s sinister laugh.