Sex, Love, and Aliens, Volume 1 (22 page)

She didn’t want to watch anymore. She may not know any of them below, but they were human. They were her species, and their deaths made her sad. She closed her eyes and waited, and although she could close her eyes against the terrible sight of humans being slaughtered, she couldn’t close off her ears. Their screams of panic and fright echoed into the dark night.

Emotion. Pain. Sorrow. She couldn’t afford any of it, and yet it all washed through her and made tears run down her cheeks. She wanted to help those people, but what could she do? She would only die with them.

The attack seemed to last for hours, days. An eternity. Finally, she realized that all was silent below. Well, mostly silent. She heard timber crackling from being on fire, but there wasn’t any hint that people had died. There wasn’t any moaning, or crying, or praying.

Bree turned back onto her stomach to look down and saw a burned out shell of where the settlement had once been. She’d seen it before, the residual aftermath of the invaders. The baby crossed her mind and it hurt her heart to think the child had been alive only hours before. Smiling. Laughing. Safe in the knowledge that his parents were right there to catch him if he should fall.

Bree pushed to her feet. It was stupid to think the child would be alive but something drove her down there to investigate, to make sure. It wasn’t logical. The invaders didn’t leave humans alive, but humans were vastly illogical sometimes, as her father had told her.

The fire that had roared through the settlement had reduced to smoldering piles of ash in most places. Other buildings had survived the blaze but lay in rubble. She didn’t see any bodies, but that either meant they’d burned or the invaders had taken them. She supposed it was because they didn’t want the stench of decaying corpses around. Or maybe they didn’t like looking at rotting flesh.

Bree stopped in the middle of the devastated settlement and looked around. There was nothing. There was no one. But then she heard a moan, and she spun. Someone alive?

The moan came again, from a large pile of rubble, and she hurried toward the sound. She needed to move a few large wooden planks that had once been a wall. Maybe it was that woman she’d seen earlier. Maybe it was the father, or the child. Grasping a large board, Bree bent her knees and then lifted, feeling her thigh muscles protesting. But she managed to flip the board, falling to her knees as the heavy piece of wood fell aside.

Expecting to see a human, she gave a startled yelp when the black clad form of an invader was revealed. He moaned again and she jumped back, grabbing the knife off her belt. Her heart raced with terror as she waited, watching, wondering what the big bastard planned to do. Oh, she was really stupid for coming down there to investigate.

She waited. And waited. But the invader didn’t move. Whatever his plan was it wasn’t a very good one. Unless it was to wait her out until he died, because then it was an excellent one. She took a cautious step forward as her eyes began to focus a little more on the situation.

It was obvious that something was terribly wrong, because to her knowledge, no invader stayed down and out of it for so long. They were warriors, hunters, and there wasn’t much that kept them down. But she could barely detect the rise and fall of his chest.

Then she saw the awkward angle of his leg, right above the knee. His femur had broken, and she wondered if he had snapped the bone through the skin. The invader moaned again, but this time she didn’t jump back because she recognized the pain-laden sound for what it was.

She gripped her knife tighter. She needed to kill him. If the positions were reversed, he would not hesitate to slit her throat. She needed to do it and do it quickly, because she had no idea if the invaders would return for their fallen comrade. Bile churned in her gut as she stepped closer to the injured man. She’d never killed anyone before. Sure, she killed animals every day for food, but bunnies and squirrels weren’t even close to a person.

She could do this, couldn’t she? She had to. The best way, the quickest way, would be to slit his throat. Bree took a deep breath and moved to stare down at the invader. Up close he wasn’t at all like she expected him to look. She’d seen the invaders through her binoculars, and he was…he was…more handsome than she thought one of his race would be. His cheekbones were a little more pronounced, his eye sockets larger and more oval than a human. He had thick black hair in braided rows, and his skin was a few shades lighter. He was covered in some type of leather armor that molded to his large, muscular frame. He was big, everywhere, and she tried to ignore the strange flutter in her belly.

Her instinct was telling her to kill him, but…she didn’t want to. Which was stupid. This invader killed the humans of this settlement! He would kill her! She had to shake off this…this…soft heart and get on with it. Her father had taught her never to hesitate. If she hesitated, she was dead.

Regaining her resolve, she moved behind him and crouched down, gripping her knife securely. She took a slow and steady breath and laid the blade across his neck. But at that moment, the alien opened his eyes. Although she couldn’t tell what color they were in the darkness, they pierced her with an intensity that made her breath hitch in her throat.

His arm shot out and knocked her backward, sending her flying. Panic tore through her as she scrambled to right herself before he could get the upper hand. A loud cry rent the air, and as she spun, she brought her knife up in a defensive stance. The invader grabbed at his injured leg and fell back with a grunt.

A long moment went by, and when he finally turned his head to look at her, she saw the defiant tilt to his chin as well as the snarl on his face. He spat some unintelligent sounds at her that she assumed was his language. Although she didn’t know what he said, she had a pretty good idea what he meant. Given half a chance, he would kill her. She raised her knife and took a meaningful step forward, but all he did was growl at her and lunge. Bree jumped back and a second later he let out another cry, just as she saw his eyes roll back into his head.

He’d passed out.

She should do it now.

Kill him. Save herself. Avenge this settlement.

Bree blew out her breath and knew she couldn’t do it. If it was a mercy killing, maybe. But even knowing this alien would snap her neck in a heartbeat couldn’t take away the fact that she wasn’t a killer. With his broken leg he couldn’t reach her. She could be long gone from there before he was healed.

Slipping her knife back in its sheath, she turned to walk away from him, going a few steps before she wondered what would happen if his people didn’t come back for him. He lay there in pain, unable to do anything for himself. He’d starve to death slowly. She could at least see if his leg was a simple break. If it was simple, he’d be able to maneuver his way out of there, find his own kind.

Bree turned around and walked to his legs and squatted, assessing them through the black leather of his uniform. She pulled her knife out again and cut the material up the seam to his hip.

Wow. Nice leg. Muscular. Powerful. And crooked. He had snapped the femur, his weight bearing bone, but lucky for him it was a clean break. Her father had once broken the same bone and her mother had shown her what to do. He wouldn’t be able to walk on it for a few days, but hopefully his people would find him soon.

Standing, she put her knife away once again and that’s when she saw the blood at his shoulder. His blood, although it was red like hers. So, he’d been shot as well. He was one unlucky alien, and damned if she’d feel sorry for him. She turned to walk away when the unmistakable sound of growling came from the darkness of the forest.

Shit!

Chapter 2

There were two of them, and they weren’t wolves or mountain lions. No, these two ugly beasts were A-cats, short for alien cats, although technically they weren’t cats at all. Who the hell knew what they were? Some mutated, ugly thing was all anyone could agree on.

The invaders had released them into the forests to hunt down the remaining humans who’d initially escaped the mass assaults on the cities. They were big but thin, their ears pointed, and their teeth were long and sharp as razors. They hunted by scent and they particularly loved the smell of blood.
Sharks on land
her father used to say. These beasts were another reason Bree liked staying high in the rocks. A-cats preferred hunting in the lower altitude.

They must have smelled all the blood spilled this evening, more specifically, the man behind her. But now that they’d seen her it didn’t matter much the whats or whys because they’d caught her own scent and their hot, evil eyes were trained on her.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Her foot hit something and she glanced down and saw a half-charred board. She grabbed it and held it up, and lucky she did, because the first beast, the one closest to her, decided at that moment to attack. It jumped on her quickly, startling her, and she fell back with a scream. She used the wood to protect herself against the creature’s sharp, vicious teeth and fumbled with the knife still in its sheath at her hip.

Damn it!

She stretched her fingers down, little by little in an effort to grab it while still maintaining her grip on the shield. She grunted when she felt claws scrape her hand, but she didn’t let go. Finally, she was able to grab the knife handle and pull it out. She didn’t waste any time as she brought her hand up and plunged the knife blade into the beast’s head. The heavy animal immediately went lax as the knife went into his brain, killing him instantly.

But she didn’t have a moment to relax as she remembered the other one. She yanked out her knife and began to push heavily against the carcass, but it didn’t move fast enough and she knew the other animal would pounce at any second. She heard a growl, braced for impact, and then the discharge of a weapon had her gasping in shock.

All was quiet. She finally pushed the beast off her and rolled to her feet. It took a few minutes to realize what she was seeing, but basically the invader had managed to drag himself over to a discarded blaster and shoot the second A-cat. She glanced at him and their eyes held. He had a gun now, and she was dead. However, much to her surprise, he dropped the weapon and flopped back. His face was pale and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. He was the picture perfect definition of being in agony.

And she was confused.

She walked over to him hesitantly, keeping her knife ready. He had dragged himself over five feet, on his broken leg side, and she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t finish the mission he’d been sent there to do. But as she approached him, he didn’t move. He just watched her with weary eyes that seemed almost…resigned. Did he think she was going to kill him now? The man had saved her life. Sure, he’d probably saved hers as a consequence of saving his, but still, she was alive.

Crap. Now she had to do something nice for him.

She looked at his broken leg. Well, perhaps she could set that before heading out. That would at least give him a fighting chance.

Touching her leg, she said, “Leg.”

He just looked at her.

“Leg,” she repeated, pointing again to her leg. She scooped up a stick. “Leg. Broke.”

Then she put it all together. Pointing to her leg, she said the word again, then broke the stick and said the word ‘broke’. Then she pointed at his leg.

“Your leg is broken.”

He must have figured out her pantomime because he gave her a no-shit look.

“Bree,” she said, tapping her chest. “Bree. Bree fix broke leg.”

And she put the broken stick back together before pointing to his leg.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he tried to understand what she was saying, so she did it all again. After the second time, he gave a slow nod of approval.

Bree went about collecting the items she needed to set and splint the fracture. Strong muscles held the femur in place, which made it difficult to maintain traction during the healing process so she was going to have to make an improvised traction splint.

It took a few minutes to find two perfectly sized branches, and using her knife, she wielded two forked edges at one end. One would go under his armpit and the other would be in his groin. Next she took some material she found in the rumble and padded the ends. She had rope, and although she hated to lose it, she needed it to secure the longer splint around his body. Approaching him, she tried her best to describe what she was planning to do.

“I’m going to make you a traction unit,” she said, demonstrating with the branches on her body. “This goes here and this goes here, and then I use this rope and tie it off. At the end, I have to wrap this around your ankle and twist it so the bone will snap back together to heal. Okay?”

She knew he didn’t understand a word she’d said but hoped he understood enough not to prevent her from helping. He just stared at her with those large, intense eyes of his, never blinking as he watched what she was doing. He flinched as she touched him and she held her hands up, showing no weapons in a I-won’t-hurt-you gesture. Slowly, she once again went to put the splints in place, and this time he allowed her to do it.

Once she had the splints where they needed to go, she used the rope to keep them in place. Now was the tricky part. Securing the rope over his ankle, she attached it to another piece of wood at the bottom of the splints and then began to twist the rope. With each turn, the rope tightened on the ankle and began to pull it down. She jammed her feet into the dirt as she twisted and twisted, knowing she had to pull the broken leg down until it was a little longer than the unbroken leg.

She hazard a quick glance at the invader’s face, and pain dominated his features. His eyes were screwed up and his legs were white with tension, but he didn’t stop her and she continued on. How he didn’t scream in pain she didn’t know. But she saw the bone shifting beneath the skin, moving back into place, and when she figured she’d twisted enough she stopped the torture and secured the rope against the side of the branch. Over time the traction would have to be checked, but she figured he’d be back in the warm bosom of his invader army soon.