Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad Read online

  Hadone spins around and growls at my touch… Then his snarl softens, and he stares at me with those green-flecked eyes.

  Wait, I thought Aurelians only have slate-grey eyes?

  I push the thought out of my head. These three men are nothing like the Aurelians I’ve heard about. I shake my head, pointing north. We have to go around this egg sac – not seek out a suicidal fight!

  Hadone looks like he’s aching for the glory of battle, and doesn’t even care what happens to himself if he bites off more than he can chew. As I touch his arm, I look into his eyes and I suddenly see something darker within them.

  I realize there’s a stress behind his gaze – as though Hadone has already decided he’s not going to make it out of this place alive.

  He’s not afraid of that fate, though – quite the opposite. It’s as if he yearns for something more – something so great he’s actually afraid of it.

  His eyes widen at my touch, and then Hadone pulls sharply back, his lips peeling away from his teeth in a snarl. There’s a primal beastliness to his features.

  I don’t care. If Hadone can get me out of here safely, with all four orphans, I’ll forgive everything that Aurelians have ever done to my people.

  Hadone jerks his head left, indicating that we should continue moving in that direction. A frisson runs down my spine as he pulls himself away from my touch. Every second we waste, Tyler and Runner could be in further danger.

  Or they already are. They might be in that egg sac already, at the mercy of the Scorp Queen. Oh, Gods - I can’t even think of that!

  We head north, stealthily and as fast as Stacy and Tod’s little legs can take them. I even consider picking them up and carrying them at one point, but our stride is careful – taking care not to make sound. It’s better to be safe than fast.

  That much soon becomes apparently as we pass an alleyway and the sudden noise of movement within announces danger.

  I grab my wrench harder, turning to face the threat. The Aurelians circle around to protect me, placing their huge bodies between me and whatever caused the menacing sound...

  …then, from between the broad backs of the alien warriors, I see a cat running from the alleyway, cans and garbage tumbling in its furry wake.

  Hadone laughs under his breath, and I don’t like the sound. This isn’t the time or place for jokes, and I don’t see how he can find anything funny right now.

  We continue on – making our way further north to the abandoned hospital that the four orphans once had a second home in. We go in through the front doors and I glance at the long-abandoned front desk; imagining what it might have been like when there was a busy, stressed-out receptionist sitting there, trying to manage the waves of people coming in for the ER.

  Back then, long before I was born, this hospital was a place to go if you were sick or hurt. Now, unless you lived in the Capital, you were shit out of luck.

  Hell, even in the Capital you need enough money to pay for treatment, or the hospitals themselves would happily let you die in the streets.

  I suddenly freeze in my tracks. Up ahead there’s a Scorp warrior, crushed beneath a fallen beam but still struggling to get up. Forn moves with brutal violence, his feet soft as a mountain cat as he strides over to the beast.

  The Scorp’s long tail flicks forward and I gasp in horror. One prick of that barb and Forn will be writhing in lethal pain.

  Yet, incredibly, Forn’s hand darts forward and actually grabs that darting tail; clenching his fist around it just beneath the dripping, venomous barb.

  With a slash of his Orb-Dagger, he slices the venomous barb clean off. Then he ducks forward and slits the Scorp’s throat.

  I shudder at the ease with which these Aurelians kill. It’s both reassuring, and terrifying.

  Trying to get the sight of death from my memory, I swallow hard – remembering instead that there’s only one way up to the higher floors of the hospital.

  The elevators have long since rotted away, and the second set of stairs completely caved in years ago. Scavengers picked away everything of value in this abandoned hospital, including the support beams.

  That’s why the four orphans made a second home here, despite my protests about the rusty nails and the moldy floorboards that I constantly worry they will collapse beneath them.

  Yet it wasn’t an entirely bad strategy. This hospital has been abandoned for so long that the easy pickings are long gone – and today, most vagrants avoid the place due to the creepy, abandoned “mental facility” vibe.

  Apparently, even the homeless have standards – and there are many more inviting abandoned buildings to squat in.

  Or were, I should say. Before today.

  Stacy rushes towards the stairway. “No! I’m going first,” I his sternly, and she stops right in her tracks, looking back at me.

  Poor Stacy’s used to living a wild and free life, with nobody to boss her around. Aside from myself, adults are a constant danger to her. It sickens me, but I know there are predators out there who view a small girl as an easy target.

  Stacy is still frozen on the spot, but she’s biting her lip – as if considering ignoring my order and running up the stairs anyway, to see if her friends are all right.

  Eventually, though, Stacy nods and steps back towards me.

  The three Aurelians see where I’m looking and walk to the stairs. “Wait!” I yell, but it’s too late. Forn puts his weight on the first step…

  …and with a deafening crack, falls straight through it.

  He grunts in pain and I see the fresh blood from a big splinter sticking out of his calf. The Aurelian has already taken a bullet wound today, and I know that this fresh injury had to hurt – yet he barely seems to acknowledge the pain.

  Instead, Forn pulls his leg out from the splintered staircase and – before I can even tend to the wound – roughly tears the shard of wood from his leg.

  Green blood spurts out, splatting the broken wood beneath him and sizzling menacingly.

  Green, acidic blood? What does it mean? Who are these beastly Aurelians - who don’t speak the common tongue, bleed a different color, and are covered in ornate, tribal tattoos?

  The second Aurelian, Hadone, looks like he’s about to repeat the same mistake as his warrior companion. If he tries to walk up the stairs, he’s going to go right through as well. The reason the children chose the hospital as a place to hide is because anything larger than a child would find it difficult – or impossible – to get upstairs.

  I can only guess at the weight of the Aurelians – but at over seven-feet-tall, and built with slab-like, powerful muscles, they could easily weigh four or five hundred pounds.

  I rush forward, stopping Hadone.

  “I’m going first,” I say, although I know he won’t understand my words. He pauses then, and I brush past him to take my first step on the stairs. I know they can support my weight, at least.

  Then I feel a vice-like grip on my arm. It isn’t Hadone – this time it’s Darok looking at me with dark, serious eyes.

  He shakes his head, uttering one word in his guttural language. I can guess what he means.

  No.

  No? What right does he have to tell me no?

  Forn points towards Tod and Stacy. The three warriors look at each other with intense eyes, their gaze flicking between the orphans and then back towards me.

  I know what they mean. I normally wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving the two kids with anyone – but somehow, I know I can trust these three warriors.

  Comprehension hits me as they nod to each other. Maybe it’s their body language softening, but I understand the subtext of their silent conversation.

  They know I wouldn’t leave these two orphans with them if I wasn’t coming back.

  I stare up at the staircase that ends in darkness. The light of day has faded, and yet mercifully there are no more screams from outside. Part of me wonders if people are hiding, silently cowering.

  The other part wonder
s if everyone who could scream has already been silenced.

  I take a deep breath. I’ve made this climb numerous times, but there are new scratches in the wall that scare me. I wonder if they were carved there by a swipe of a Scorp’s claws. Surely not - the heavy beasts could never get up these stairs...

  Could they?

  This is the only easy way up, but those huge creatures could have scaled the walls – crawling right up the sides of the building like the scorpions of planet Earth they so resembled.

  Scorps have no fear of death – the height wouldn’t have bothered them. All they care about is bringing back still-living hosts for their cruel Queen to implant with her eggs.

  Ugh. I have empathy for most creatures – even predators. The tiger must kill to eat, it’s the nature of a cat to chase birds...

  But the Scorp? I have no empathy for those freakish creatures. Their purpose and motivation is not a thing of nature. They’re a species that should never have existed – a disgusting combination of man and reptile that the Gods themselves should have wiped from reality.

  I pull myself up the stairs carefully, stepping exactly in the spots I’ve already tried and tested to support my weight. I specifically avoid the one creaky board that the kids use as a warning sign – alerting them to strangers climbing the staircase. I just hope that no Scorp was able to clamber up these stairs.

  What if Tyler and Runner aren’t up there?

  I can’t think of that right now. I make my way up the rest of the staircase, my heart pounding. Even scarier that the thought of not finding the kids up there is what I might find instead…

  What if the Scorp are up there?

  They could have landed on the roof of the building, I suddenly realize. An egg sac could be up there, not visible from the street below. Or the Scorp could have scaled the walls, pulling themselves up with their powerful claws to find any prey hiding away.

  Why hasn’t the Capital sent any reinforcements yet?

  I should have already heard the drone of heli-ships rushing in to provide relief to Barl. Instead, there’s only dead silence – literally dead silence; as the city now belongs only to the lost or slaughtered.

  As I silently climb the stairs, I listen intently for the pounding of Scorp feet or the screams of citizens running outside – but I hear nothing. The first round of harvesting is over. I take a small solace in the silence, but every second it continues makes me feel we’re closer to the violence and terror spilling over once again.

  It’s like a glass of water filled to the very brim as a tap drips into it. The elasticity of the water keeps it all together even as the water swells above the edge of the glass – but only to a point. Then it comes gushing over the brim.

  I feel like Barl is trapped in that situation now – and the eerie still and silence is being strained further for every moment that passes.

  I reach the top of the stairs and creep through the abandoned hospital. All of the valuable equipment has long since been scavenged, but a few gurneys with broken wheels and rotting cloth still dot the hallways. I squint, staring for any sign of fresh blood or claw marks along the walls.

  I keep my footsteps as silent as possible as I walk down the long, thin hallway. The orphans placed gurneys strategically so that there’s only space for a child as small as they are to get by without having to shift equipment and cause noise. I push the gurney aside with a creak, knowing I’ll have alerted them if they’re hiding up here, and I keep walking down the hallway.

  “Tyler? Runner? It’s me! Are you there?”

  I call out, my voice echoing down the empty hallway. My stomach clenches with unease. If there are Scorp in this building, they’ll now know exactly where I am.

  I hear a sound from up ahead and clutch my wrench harder. I have no illusion that I could survive fighting even one runt Scorp warrior with this useless weapon, but there’s something about having cold steel in your hand that reassures you.

  Let’s just hope this wrench is built better than the last one!

  Shapes suddenly rush around the corner, and I sigh in relief. Even in the darkness I can recognize them as Tyler and Runner. The two little boys jump into my arms, almost knocking me over. I hold them tight as tears well in my eyes.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay! I’m so glad you’re okay!” I repeat the words over and over, trying to maintain my composure and give these two boys some kind of reassurance.

  “What about Stacy and Tod?” Tyler demands, his voice quivering. “I wanted to go find them but… But there were so many Scorp!”

  “They’re downstairs. I didn’t want to bring them to come up here in case… In case there were more...”

  Runner nods, but furrows his brow. He’s always been sharp, especially for his age. “Tammy, you left them alone?”

  I shake my head. “No… There’s…” This was difficult to explain. “We only survived ourselves because three Aurelians came to help us.”

  Runner pulls away from me like I’ve turned into a monster. “Aurelians? They’re the ones who sent the Scorp here!”

  I cringe, feeling idiotic. I’d forgotten – Runner isn’t an orphan. He had a father who left him two years ago, leaving him at just six-years-old to fend for himself. At eight, he’s the oldest of the gang, and their de-facto leader. His father was part of the Human-Nationalistic movement – the anti-Aurelian political guerrilla force that uses all methods possible to fight off the yoke of Aurelian power. Since birth, Runner had been fed a long line of propaganda – some of which I used to believe myself. Only now, after having been saved by those three Aurelian warriors, I’m not sure if I still trust everything I once thought I knew.

  “Runner, these aren’t normal Aurelians.”

  I try to keep my voice calm, but inside I’m terrified. Runner could sprint off at any second. He gives me a suspicious look, as if he’s not sure if all of my care and help for him over the last two years was genuine, or if I was working for the Aurelians this whole time…

  “All Aurelians are the same,” he hisses. “That’s what my dad said.”

  I shake my head. “Have you ever seen an Aurelian with a tattoo?”

  Tyler sniffs. “Aurelians don’t have tattoos. They have blank, white skin – like a statue.”

  “Like a gargoyle,” finishes Runner darkly.

  “These Aurelians,” I tell him, “have tattoos all over their bodies. They don’t speak the noble tongue, or the common tongue either – and their blood runs green!”

  Runner bites his lip, his mind racing to comprehend. “And… And they kept you safe? You, and Tod, and Stacy?”

  “Yes. They fought off wave after wave of Scorp.”

  Runner passes his hand over his chin, as if he has a beard. I remember his father, with his grizzly stubble, and I realize fondly where Runner got that particular gesture. Despite being abandoned, Runner still idolizes his father – and his father’s twisted ideology. It pains me to see so much of that awful man living on inside Runner.

  “I don’t trust them,” Runner contemplates, “but if you were stupid enough to leave our friends with them, then I have to go and protect them.” Runner juts his chin up proudly as he leads the way back to the staircase.

  I hate that he suddenly distrusts me – but as long as he’s walking towards safety, I’m not going to waste a second defending myself. I just wish I’d hear the rotor sounds of heli-ships swooping in to save us. Edgar was so certain that the Capital would have had the defense forces on their way already.

  Together, the kids and I make our way together down the stairs. As we reach the bottom, I find the three Aurelians in defensive positions, each watching a flank with Tod and Stacy safely inside the ring of their burly bodies.

  “Runner! Tyler!” Stacy yells, and Darok wraps his hand around her mouth to silence her shrill voice.

  Runner rushes forward without fear, leaping forward and pummeling Darok with his little fists. The Aurelian simply looks down in confusion, utterly bemused.
r />   “Get your filthy alien hands off her!” Runner cries, and for a second I fear that Darok is going to try to silence him as well. Instead, Darok simply releases Stacy – who wraps her little arms around Runner and embraces him tightly.

  “They’re friends, Runner!” Stacy reassures him. “They’re friends! He only grabbed me because we have to be quiet.”

  “Aurelians aren’t our friends,” Runner hisses grimly, looking suspiciously up at the huge alien. The beastly warrior towers over me, and I can’t imagine how small Runner must feel standing beneath him. Yet the little boy shows no fear of the alien warrior. Instead, his eyes burn with hatred for the Aurelian – and I know that at best there’ll be an uneasy truce between him and our three protectors.

  That’s the irony, isn’t it? Hatred can trump even fear.

  Hadone and Forn give me a blank look. I can tell what they’re thinking: Where to next? Do we have more strays to pick up, or can we finally get out of this hellhole before the Scorp start hunting again?

  I’m thinking the exact same thing. I don’t know Scorp behavior well enough to predict when they’ll start their next cycle of predatory stalking, but I don’t want to wait around long enough to find out.

  What I do know is this: That nowhere in Barl is safe any more. We need to get out of the city – right now.

  10

  Darok

  The human female named Tammy feels right. She smells right. Her scent tantalizes my nostrils.

  Yet, I still don’t allow myself to trust her. We did not earn our mate. We didn’t bring a worthy sacrifice to our Orb-God, and yet the portal leading us to her opened up regardless.

  Thus, she may have come from the darkness. She could be a creature from the void itself, masquerading as a beautiful woman to tempt and trick us. I will not allow myself to fall for this ruse – to allow myself to feel the surge of desire at the shape of her gorgeous body. Hadone and Forn might have fallen fully for this woman, and I don’t begrudge them that. I even understand why. It isn’t just the beauty in Tammy’s body, those soft, feminine curves or her plump, ripe lips.