Alien Freak - Calista Skye Page 0,21

sound of alien weaponry. It’s a noise like a hundred chainsaws fighting each other, and it goes on for some time.

Finally the hatch hisses open again. I draw back, just in case it’s not Zaroc.

“Oh my God,” I exclaim. “You’re hurt!”

He has several gashes in his skin and scales, oozing dark blue blood.

As he tries to get in, he stumbles and almost falls. I rush to his assistance.

“Stay back!” he warns urgently.

I see why. Behind him is a thick, writhing mass of vines, like a living wall of green tentacles, some of them with the same kind of eye we saw before.

He turns and fires the weapon at the plant. The gun spits white plasma that burns the greenery, and the chainsaw noise rips through my ears while the vines retract.

Zaroc moves to close the hatch, but before he can get that far, one thin vine shoots through the opening and hits my waist. It immediately whips around me and pulls me off my feet, then drags me fast to the opening.

“Zaroc!” I scream, clawing on the smooth floor in an attempt to slow down.

He fires the weapon again, but it’s obvious he can’t aim too close to me.

More vines shoot through the hatch and curl around my ankles, thighs, and arms.

Zaroc drops the weapon and throws himself at me, but one vine whips away from me and hits him across the chest so hard he staggers backwards.

I scream as I pass through the hatch, trying to hold on to the edge but being pulled out with great force.

Then I’m out on the planet. All around is green, living vines and tentacles and leaves and twigs. The thick, hot air makes me retch with the rotting smell.

“Zaroooc!” I scream, totally panicking, but being held like in a vise by the many tentacles, my feet not touching the ground.

The red alien is standing in the opening, not bothered by the vines anymore. Smoke is rising from his lowered weapon as he looks at me.

He takes one calm step inside and closes the hatch.

“Zarooooc!” I scream again, my voice raw.

The ship disappears behind green leaves and stalks as I’m pulled away from it.

I’m alone.

10

- Zaroc -

I drop the white-hot, completely burned-out plasma rifle to the floor.

“Blasted old budget trash,” I mutter. Unfairly, perhaps – plasma rifles are notoriously unreliable, and this one has probably not been used for decades. I’m lucky it didn’t blow up in my hands.

Zooming up with the elevator, I get Grandmother and make some preparations with the weapons pods.

“Grandmother, stay in touch with the ship,” I order as I take a look at the scanner. There are enemy ships up there in the sky, hopefully out of bombs now that this ship is uncovered and vulnerable.

“I will,” Grandmother replies as I go down again and run to the weapons rack. “Are we going out?”

“We are.” I pick two weapons, one big and one small. I hit the hatch release and step out, then quickly close it again behind me.

I’m surrounded by green in all shades. The Fentrat has created a wall of thick, thorny leaves to keep me in. Definitely an unfriendly environment.

But the ship has clear skies above it.

“You could take off right now,” Grandmother chirps. “You’ve burned it free of the Fentrat.”

“Just stay in touch with it,” I grunt, aiming at the green wall in the direction Averie disappeared.

I stand still, letting my tongue taste the air.

Ah. She was taken that way.

Pulling the trigger, I send a thin stream of antimatter particles at the living foliage.

The result is impressive. Each invisibly tiny particle explodes with the force of several handfuls of high explosive, clearing a wide tunnel straight ahead.

The whole Fentrat seems to tremble, and I can smell anger in the air. And fear, which gives me hope. She has been here.

I walk through the tunnel, noting that it closes behind me as new vines and tentacles move to block my exit.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Grandmother echoes my own thoughts. “It won’t let you get away with this for much longer.”

I taste the air again. That way.

Burning another tunnel through the hardening green, I’m hit by a flurry of whiplashes from thorn-tipped vines. Some are deflected by my scales, but most rip little cuts in me.

Many huge eyes sprout from buds all around, and more vines come lashing in my direction. I duck and evade some, while others get through.

Ah. These don’t have thorns, but tiny little hairs that carry a burning poison.