Alien, Mine (31 page)

Chapter 16

Keep the Damn Cheese

Sandrea tried to lift her head from beneath Eugen’s cradling hand.

“Remain still,” he murmured.

She relaxed into his hold and waited. A moment later, he rose with her in his arms and set her carefully on her feet. She turned anxious eyes to Dexter. Sitting sentry-like atop Dovzshak’s battle helmet, he bobbed his chin at her, but chose to remain where he was.

“That was it?” she asked. “The ship blew up?”

“Yes,” Eugen replied. “It was no doubt powerful enough to kill us had we been trapped inside, but not destroy any shielded on-board computers. They will want that information now more than ever.”

An expectant quality drifted behind his gaze.

“What?”

“Sergeant Kulluk has located the holding compound. There are humans amongst the captives.”

A swell of relief and joy threatened to roll her control.

Thank God they’re still alive.

She got a grip on her escalating emotions. “And?”

“They don’t seem to trust my sergeant.”

“
Our
Kulluk? Can’t imagine why.”

“Not only the humans. There are Gaillings here as well. There appears to be some suspicion about Sergeant Kulluk’s role as liberator.”

A matriarchal gene she hadn’t known she possessed kicked in, flooding her with the desire to protect these people.

“Is it far?” she asked.

“Within walking distance.”

“Let’s go then.”

Eugen set Dovzshak to point and they moved into the dapple-shadowed forest. Amongst the tall, slim trunks, humidity wrapped around Sandrea like a wet blanket. Perspiration dewed her body. The vegetation reminded her of a tropical rainforest and she minded her footing on the brown, damp, decaying matter covering the forest floor. Her eyes scanned for anything resembling the nasty thorn-encrusted canes of a wait-a-while vine. The trees corralled the air into quiet stillness and she found herself listening for the cracking call of a whip bird.

Carefully negotiating an upward climb over mulch-dressed, unstable rock, she reached out to find support on a huge boulder. Its sharp, coarse surface pricked the tender skin of her palm. Eugen wrapped a hand around her upper arm and hauled her up beside him. Her eyes met his and she smiled her thanks.

Dexter barked a staccato warning.

“Bluthen,” she translated in a quiet murmur.

Eugen pushed her between the boulder and his body.

Frill flared, Dexter turned a slow circle on Dovzshak’s head, but seemed unable to pinpoint their enemy’s position. Sandrea darted her gaze through the soft shade, a glinting flash of sunlight kicking her muscles into action. She dodged around Eugen and launched herself at Kendril.

The palms of her hands slammed into unyielding armour, and she shoved. Something sharp pierced the skin of her neck.

Eugen ploughed into her and she fell painfully to the hard, uneven forest floor. Roots, twigs, and stones dug into her back. The sound of furious laser fire almost masked Eugen’s deep, distressed cry of, “No!” His embrace took on an almost frantic strength. She didn’t want to complain, but . . .

“Eugen, that’s most uncomfortable.”

His rapid intake of breath only just preceded a lessening of his hold.

“You’re
alive?”
he asked.

Well, yeah.
“I am.”

“How?”

Um . . .
“I haven’t stop breathing?”

The swift scurry of tiny feet over loose-leaf mould approached. Dexter landed with a soft thump on her shoulder, anxiety clear in his grumbling,
chuck-chuck-chuck
. Eugen levered up to crouch beside her. Traces of fading bereavement ravaged his face.

“I’m alright, honestly,” she assured.

His fingertips gently probed her flesh around the embedded foreign body in her neck. Slowly fading terror darkened his green gaze.

“They’re fatal to Angrigans, instantly lethal.”

Her stomach lurched and she swallowed. “Then I’m glad you didn’t get between me and it. Eugen, please don’t do that again.”

He didn’t look agreeable. “I have armour.”

Not around your face, damn it!

“I tell you what,” she offered, “I’ll take the darts, you take the laser bolts. Deal?”

Booted feet pounded toward them. She shuffled onto the backs of her forearms, then reached up and jerked the offensive projectile from her body.

“Mongrel bloody thing.”

“Sandrea?” A mix of pure relief and astonishment coloured Kendril’s voice.

“Yes, Shrenk’?”

“You are well?”

“Yes, Shrenk’.”

With Eugen’s assistance she scrambled to her feet, carefully holding the dart clear of the Angrigans. Kendril pulled a scanner from her medical kit and examined the wound in her neck.

“The poison is not impacting on your system in any way. Are you experiencing any pain or dizziness?”

“No. It smarts a bit, but nothing else.”

Kendril nodded then sprayed the damaged area with something soothing. “Good, if you have any discomfort or feel anything unusual, let me know,
immediately
. And Sandrea?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, Shrenk’.”

She hunted around, found a suitable stone, lifted it, laid the lethal barb in the hollow, and replaced the stone. Then she stood and jumped up and down on it a couple of times.

“Feel better?” Eugen asked.

She grinned at him. “Yeah.”

Dovzshak appeared winding between tree trunks. His features transformed from stiff, dire expectation to amazed satisfaction.

“We’re all clear for the moment, General,” he reported. “Glad you’re still with us, Sandrea.”

“Thanks, Dov’.”

Dexter settled on her right shoulder. She saw the look Eugen gave Kendril and just knew her friend would not be far from her at all times, and no doubt monitoring her body functions almost continuously. The roar of airborne engines screamed toward them then passed unseen over the green canopy.

“They got here in good time,” Kendril said.

“Ours?”

“Yes.”

“How can you tell?”

“Engine sound.”

OKaayy.

“Which ship are they from?” she asked.

Kendril chuckled. “I’m not that good, Sandrea. Sergeant Kulluk could probably tell you though.”

They continued on until shafts of light began to brighten the shadows between the thinning trees. Sporadic weapons fire filtered into hearing. Sandrea crouched beside Eugen at the edge of a field of scrubby tuft-grass and studied a tall, wire-like fence. Something like razor wire fortified its sharp upper inclination. What she supposed to be electronic surveillance equipment mounted at regular intervals monitored the compound and the flat-roofed sheds inside.

“Sergeant Kulluk, what is your position?” Eugen nodded as he received the information. “Very well, advise Lieutenant Sarens of our approach.”

He signalled Dovzshak to proceed and they jogged from the trees across the grass. She began to feel quite like the sardine as Eugen and Kendril hemmed her in behind Dov’. Nearly all her field of view comprised of his large back. They trotted onto a pale grey, hard surface, passed through mangled wire gates and halted between two buildings. Dovzshak threw a salute at someone who offered Eugen an official greeting and launched into a précis of the situation.

“The Bluthen have retreated from this zone, General,” said Jaxzen Sarens. “However the detainees are disinclined to allow us to provide medical attention. Per your orders, we have not forced the issue.”

“Very well, Lieutenant, thank you.” Eugen turned to her. “Ready?”

“Lead the way.”

Eugen took a pace back. She stepped from behind Dovzshak and smiled a greeting at Sarens.

“Hello, Lieutenant, fancy meeting you here.”

“Ssileela Fairbairn,” he greeted. “You do get around.” He turned back to Eugen. “I’m afraid we’ve encountered another problem, Sir.”

“And that would be what, Lieutenant?”

“They’re using laraxdon.”

Kendril grimaced.

“Sonic Deterrents?” Eugen asked.

“On their way, Sir.”

“Laraxdon?” Sandrea asked.

“Evil-tempered bast— er, creatures, Miss Sandrea,” Kulluk replied, striding toward them through the green-fatigued press of soldiers. “The SDs will repel them.”

“What sort of evil-tempered creatures, Sergeant?”

A growl of modulating wavelength chilled every blood cell in her body. The sound seemed to come from all around. Soldiers snapped weapons to bear in every direction. Eugen grasped her shoulders and shoved her into Dovzshak’s arms. Suddenly all she could see were armoured backs.

Dexter growled and scrambled onto her head. His feet pushed into her scalp, then he shot upward and coiled around something not altogether there that speared toward them from a rooftop. It barrelled into Dovzshak and sent them both sprawling to the paved ground.

Dovzshak rolled her beneath him and she stared over his shoulder. Shock and horror burned through her. A creature looking like the negative imprint of a very angry, tampered-with-by-a-demon Kodiak bear winked in and out of perception. Guttural snarls ripped from the animal as Dexter strained to keep it muzzled. Sparks flew as ferocious claws bit into Dovzshak’s body armour. A barrage of near point-blank fire struck the beast. The creature roared and writhed, then slumped into motionlessness. Dexter maintained his hold.

“It’s not dead yet!” she yelled.

A muzzle sited with careful precision beside Dexter. She grimaced.

This is going to be ugly.

She tried to edge further under Dovzshak.

“When I say, Dexter,” Eugen’s voice directed softly.

She closed her eyes, sensed something blocking the light, then heard the terminal click of a trigger depress. Dovzshak grunted as he took the dead weight of the animal. Things of a sticky, unpleasant nature slid down her neck. She lifted her lids and stared at a pair of hands about two millimetres from her nose. They disappeared, and Dovzshak rocked and pressed her into the ground as soldiers dragged the corpse from him. He pushed up onto all fours, then Eugen’s hands gripped her armpits and she flew to her feet.

“I’m not hurt, Shrenk’.” She waved her friend away. “You good, Dov’?”

She eyed the deep gouges cloven into his armour. He grinned as he rose, and Kendril scanned him.

“Yeah.”

“Guess we’re even then.”

“No, that was for our rescue from the asteroid. I still owe you for the Bluthen encampment.”

Eugen’s grip on her shoulders pressed with uncomfortable strength and she turned to him. Dismayed by the spectre of fear in his eyes, she placed a comforting hand in the centre of his chest. Dexter scrambled up her body, sniffed her bloody neck, then jumped to Eugen’s chest. She almost laughed as he wiped his bloodstained feet on Eugen’s uniform in a fastidious manner.

“I can’t imagine this is a good look.” She wiped gore from her throat and refused to even consider how much was in her hair.

Eugen’s lips compressed, but a spark of reluctant humour shone in his eyes.

“You’re human!”

She swung toward the unknown male voice that twanged with a definite New Zealand accent. Further into the compound, in the open space between two rows of huts, about fifty maltreated, mostly human, beings huddled together. Sunlight reflected on faces worn to devastation. Every one of them looked ruined, almost beyond hope. Desolation seemed to have carved their spirits to shreds.

Fury reeled through her.

How dare they! How dare the Bluthen treat
anybody
this way!

She strode toward the Kiwi who’d addressed her, an avalanche of questions amassed in his eyes.

“Shall we postpone the how, what, when, where, and why for the time being?” she suggested. “These Angrigan soldiers are here for your benefit. Those of you who require medical attention can receive it if you wish.”

The big man eyed her. A gridlock of emotions—hope, fear, distrust, fatigue—fused on his features.

“We haven’t got all day,” she urged quietly.

The tanned skin of forearms below the rolled up sleeves of a ragged shirt tightened as his fists clenched and unclenched. Indecision seemed to hold him captive.

Soldiers walked toward the group. To her eye they moved as unthreateningly as big, armed, fierce beings could. Medics identified those in need of immediate help. The people did not reject their advances, but neither did they welcome them. Kulluk halted beside a rugged-looking man who still retained a semblance of defiant dignity. He leaned on a rough branch for support, a crude splint just visible behind a ripped trouser leg. Kulluk pointed a thick finger at the man, then at the ground, and then aimed his finger at her and said in quite passable English, “She rip off your head and shit down your throat.”

“Sergeant!”

But the man managed a grin around the pain contorting his face.

“I wouldn’t want that,” he said. “Any chance of some of that help the lady offered?”

Kendril strode to his side.

“She knows what she’s doing,” Sandrea assured as she approached the man. “My name is Sandrea. The medic attending you is Corporal Shrenkner and this is Sergeant Kulluk. Believe it or not, he’s meaner than he looks.”

The man darted a glance at the sergeant. “Reminds me of my brother,” he muttered.