To Catch A Warrior [Unearthly World Book 5] (3 page)

She rubbed her leather-and-fur-covered hands on her fur pants. The fruit made a whining sound. It remained immobile.

“I know you hate the heat, but I can’t eat your insides when they’re frozen. Besides you’re just a fruit, nothing more. The noise you make resembles sizzles from meats on the grill, or a bubbling pot. All natural.”

Zabbie wondered who she was trying to convince. The sides of the fruit began to peel down and Zabbie smiled. The first fruit she caught and cooked made such a fuss she almost let it go, fearing it was alive. The odd objects could be found behind frozen banks or hidden in snow drifts made of chipped ice. It was as though the fruit concealed itself—but that had to be impossible. Or crazy. Still, it made Zabbie feel better when she spoke aloud. A voice, even hers in this lonely freezing place of existence was better than nothing.

It didn’t take long for her dinner to melt. Her mouth watered knowing her first bite would be a rainbow of flavor. The purple was her favorite. Lately that color was all she seemed to be finding. She would like to try red next; red would be a nice change.

Rising from her seat, she approached the fruit and crouched. Zabbie slipped a mitt from her hand, dipped her fingers inside and pulled out a handful of the warm pulpy middle. She sat on the balls of her feet, eating. The fruit made another sound.

“You know, if I ever leave here people would think I was insane if I talked about what lives here or what might have lived here. A frozen tundra in the middle of a sun is creepy enough, but fruit and vegetables that move or seem to hide. Shit, that’s spooky. And talking to my food while I eat it…it’s nuts. Wonder if I’m certifiable yet.”

She dipped her hand back into the fruit. The gelatinous mass was heating. She was reminded of oatmeal as she ate. Her belly was gifted with a warm hug on a cold day. After Zabbie licked her fingers clean she picked up the fruit and set it on the ice. She gave it a gentle nudge and watched it. It didn’t move.

“Go on.”

She waited, concentrating. Set away from the heat the object began to cool. The sides of the fruit slipped back up to conceal the insides including the top. The melted spikes hardened. The insides expanded and the fruit appeared the same as before she cooked it. Marveling each time, Zabbie was reminded of the delicious fruit from the last planet she was on, the resemblance and taste was uncanny.

The fruit began rolling as it hardened. As it rolled, it collected the ice from the ground. Before the fruit left the cavern door it was picking up speed. She wondered at the sight. Zabbie would have thought she was insane from loneliness in other circumstances watching fruit roll. There was no logic in the frozen hell. To her left was a wall of solid fire. Flames danced as high as she could see. No heat radiated from it, but when Zabbie was in need of fire she could grab a torch, roll it across the flames cotton candy style and the object would come away hot and blazing. If she stuck the stick directly into the flaming mass it burned. Zabbie was positive if she stuck her hand into the smokeless flames, she would be scorched, a limb incinerated.

There was a time not long ago she would stand near the ship that brought her to this god-forsaken place. Images played in her mind, trying to remember how or why she came. There was a reason. Weeks of wondering hurt her head until she stopped thinking up scenarios. There were aliens, bad ones. They brought her here, they had to. Then one day, the ship was gone and it was useless to try and remember what she couldn’t when she would never leave anyway.

The succumbing of the ship was slow. Part of the ship was visible while the rest disappeared into the wall of fire. Her body would sway toward the debris. It would be so easy to take that last step and end her life. Once, only once had she stepped into the half burning ship before running, stumbling to the ground. Hands and knees bruised form her fall, she struggled up. On those days she would feel the tears freeze on her cold cheeks and wish so hard for someone to spend time with her—even a second, a glimpse.

The dance of the fire was hypnotic. How two extreme substances could coexist was baffling, even though the planet she was on previous was crazy strange. Overhead was fire, granted it was hundreds of feet up, but since she came she’d noticed the distance was diminishing between ceiling and ground. The frozen tundra was shrinking as time went on. Within months the area she could travel was half the size. Soon there would be nothing, nowhere she could run. She had to be careful; one night she awoke with the wall of fire a hairsbreadth from her. She made her home in the middle of the ice enclosure.

The fire she built in the small cave she was in was too close to the fire wall. She had discovered the fruit during her daily walk. She always needed to check the perimeter for hazards. Eating near the fire wall was a risk but convenient. A fire was easy to start, the fruit cooked fast, she ate fast, and was on her way.

Her tummy full, Zabbie began walking back to her home. There were more patches of ice beneath her feet. Deep beneath the hard frozen ground, she could make out the fire creeping higher. The flames reflected up under the mirror the ice made. Frozen trees covered in ice stood eerily. Frozen soldiers, solid bark with no leaves. She could hack at the tree bark with sharpened sticks or rock to get to the inner bark up until a month previously to chew on; now, the entire trees were frozen solid. Only the ground immediately beneath her feet remained free of fire. The air was hazy, smoke-like but not thick, more of a mist you would see at the base of a falls. Zabbie wondered at this strange place. Why were there trees? Life existed here before.

There were no signs of humans but there were frozen animal-like images behind polished solid walls of ice. Zabbie could stare at the frozen faces of odd creatures for hours. Her thoughts bringing the animals to life for entertainment. It was as though an ice age took them by surprise, freezing the carcasses. Some of the flying creatures were beautiful. Some of the furry ones were fanged, hideous and some were so gorgeous her eyes would tear with the loss. There was nothing left in this barren place to tear up over her loss when she became a block of ice waiting to be burned.

She wondered if once the ice cleansed the area, if new life would begin. The encompassing fire would incinerate everything. Life would be reborn as it was after a forest was burned. New life, healthy trees, maybe more animals would return. Fire created such odd things. The frozen beasts were formidable; she would like to see one alive. Her thoughts turned sad. Zabbie would never know, never see. She’d be dead by then. Her nightmares took her to frightening places, standing surrounded on all sides by fire until the gap shrank toward her body inch by inch. It was no wonder she woke screaming on occasion. If only there was someone to hold her.

The few flowing streams Zabbie encountered when she first arrived were now mere dribbles. She had nothing to cook with. She needed to drink but could only do so in front of a roaring fire or she would freeze her insides. The trees were getting scarce as she burned a fire continuously. Frozen shrubs stood to her waist in the few piles left. Zabbie lifted her face to the fiery sky. She always wondered why the wind only blew after she ate the fruit to roll it away and out of her sight.

To her left she could see a round red object hiding near an icy bank. Zabbie glanced at the object. It sat still. She looked away and looked back as fast. Zabbie was positive the fruit had moved. Uninterested and not hungry she left the object to its own devices, wondering if it would be there later, she had wanted a red one next.

How convenient.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she continued on. Once Zabbie returned to her cave home, she would need to build the fire up and thaw out her feet. The tips of her baby toes had turned black a day ago. Zabbie had rubbed the warmth back into her frozen flesh but the pain was brutal. She needed to be careful. If her toes went black she would lose use of them. Her feet would become useless. The image of crawling from a wall of fire as it ate her feet then calves then higher plagued her dreams.

She lifted her hand to pull the fur hood near her mouth closed. Her frozen breaths were hurting her lungs. Every day grew that much colder until she wondered if she would end up freezing solid like the trees. Every step she continued to take was a victory. Every second of her life was a gift until she was to breathe her last breath.

Rounding an icy hill that stood just above her height, Zabbie stopped, frozen in her tracks. There was a large moving thing, head and shoulders visible above the hill. She ducked down, a mitten hand at her mouth to keep her gasp of surprise quiet. Her thoughts were racing. This was something new. Was the ice alive? Moving blocks of ice, how was that possible? The thing made a noise. It sounded like a word and Zabbie searched her thoughts. She knew that language. How she knew was a mystery. She was certain she’d never heard it before. When she peeked closer her breath caught. A walking snowman with wild white flying hair turned slightly.

Is it real or have I gone completely insane?

Zabbie wasn’t certain which idea was scarier. The being growled. She was within feet of the abominable snowman. The second she landed on this frozen hell she’d wished for something, anything to keep her company. A living snowman was too much, and it looked huge, and dangerous as hell.

She peeked at it again around the corner of the ice then ducked. There was fur covering its bare chest. It wore black pants and big black boots. Its hair floated in a crazy storm of its own around its head. It growled again.

“Be-er-tha.”

Maybe it was a keeper of this place and had discovered her. It might kill her. Zabbie grabbed a piece of broken wood from the ground. The limbs of the trees became so cold they snapped off and crackled as they hit the frozen ground. She would sneak up on it.

You will not kill me, snowman.

Zabbie dropped to her hands and knees, ready to spring, preparing to smash the creature across its head. Once she had it subdued, she would decide what to do with it.

* * * *

Titus saw the movement from the corner of his eye.

“Bertha?” Titus whispered, not wanting to alarm or scare her. It had been a number of months since he’d seen her last. Her lost lonely features passed before his eyes. His heart jumped when he spotted the moving being walking upright. “Don’t be afraid, little female. I won’t hurt you, it’s me, Titus.”

Titus was elated. He had finally found her. The fur clad being had to be a female human. Bertha was wearing furs when he put her in the shuttle. That meant it had to be Bertha.
Please let it be Bertha
. He circled the small hill. It was low enough he could see her on her hands and knees going round and round as he approached to avoid him. He moved faster, she moved faster. Soon they would both be running and Titus tired of all the spinning. He stood still and waited. She continued to crawl and he ducked down so his head and shoulders were out of her line of vision. She would come to him.

“Bertha?”

No answer.
Darn the stubborn female.
Titus took a quick glance at his surroundings. There was ice surrounded by a wall of fire. The sky was a flat screen of more fire, billowing hundreds of feet high overhead. Dead trees were ice covered. The frozen air swished in tendrils and smelled stale. The air was thin; with the trees dead it would be nonexistent soon. He thought the female would have thrown herself at him in relief. She was either afraid or pissed. He was certain the thing he followed was human. It was too small to be a human male. Titus had seen human males; most were built a bit bigger than their females. She rounded the snowbank and for a second stopped dead. Head down, she was staring at his feet. A wild bellow rent the air and the furry creature jumped up and came at him wielding a club.

“Die, Abominable Snowman.”

Huh?

It had to be Bertha; the female could speak his language. Only an altercation with the Gorgano could accomplish the skill and one of the foul aliens had boarded his last vessel and killed a female before the human Bethany had stopped it. Mouth open in surprise, Titus grabbed the club as she ran at him and stepped to the side.

She must really be pissed with me.

Her momentum crashed her head first into another hill. Last moment, her arms came up to shield her head or she would have been knocked senseless. The furry lump fell back onto her ass groaning and swore. It
had
to be big mouth Bertha. Huffing and puffing, the little being rose and dived for Titus’s waist. She clung to him, her arms heaving, yanking, and trying to knock him down. Titus stood still rolling his eyes. Round and round she went, bent over, ass wiggling in her exertion. Titus scratched at his head.

She moved to his ass and Titus yelped when she grabbed his pants and tugged them around his ankles and shoved. To his surprise he almost toppled over.

“Little demon. If you’re so interested in seeing my cock why didn’t you say so?”

He grabbed her by her hood and thrust her to her knees in front of him, her face inches from his engorged and ready cock. Titus had zero nudity issues. When Zargonnii Holidayed both male and female entered the woods naked. But, Titus knew human females were skittish when confronted by a large cock, and he was hung. She yelped.

“Holy hell, torpedo.”

“Now that I have your attention you will stop this nonsense,” Titus demanded.

She head-butted his dick. Titus was surprised it hurt, not much, but she had his admiration. Tough little bean. Bertha seemed to have developed a set of balls in her absence. She leaned forward, no doubt to bite. Titus flipped her onto her belly and yanked up his pants. He pulled her outer layer of fur over her head and flipped her onto her back. Wide-eyed, a terrified female stared up at him.

“You’re not Bertha.”

“You’re not a snowman?”

“I’m a Zargonnii warrior. You understand me, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“What’s your name?”

“Zabbie.” Her breaths were heaving pants and little puffs of air haloed her cheeks. “Are you going to eat me?”