Citun’s Storm (11 page)

Storm thought he was sometimes too cocky for his own good. “No. If you’re staying, so am I. But be warned, something is off here.”

The eight warriors and Storm were led to a small village. A feast had been prepared in their honor. The rancid odor coming from the cooking vats made Storm gag. A young female approached Storm; she was gaunt, shaking and obviously pregnant. She motioned to Storm to come with her. Storm glanced at Citun.

Citun shook his head no and pulled Storm closer. The young woman smiled in understanding. She took Storm’s hand and placed it onto her belly where Storm could feel the kicks of the baby. She knew the gesture was meant to show her the female couldn’t possibly cause her harm. Storm pulled from Citun.

“I can take care of myself. You know what I can do if I have to. I doubt this little thing would hurt me; she looks ready to pop. These aliens are bigger than a bug, but my puny arms know how to throw a punch if some male comes near me.”

“Are you certain?” Citun asked.

“Something’s going on here. I want to find out what.”

“Stay out of trouble and stay in my sight.”

Storm followed the female to a lean-to; it was open and she could see Citun watching her. The males of the tribe, twenty in all, sat in a circle and coaxed the warriors to do the same. Compared to Citun’s men, the tribe’s men were paltry. She bet she weighed the same as the males, but Storm couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t as it appeared to be. The excitement in the air was electric.

Storm concentrated on the expecting female. She was malnourished; she had few teeth for someone so young. There were very few women in various open lean-tos she could see. After gazing around the village, Storm wondered where all the elderly were. Everyone seemed the same age. Though the female was carrying, she saw no children, no babies.

“Was illness here?” Storm asked. She wanted to use as little words as possible. Her words weren’t spot on but enough for her to be understood.

The female gasped and took her hands in a surprisingly firm grip. “You speak my language?”

“Little,” Storm lied, then shrugged as though at a loss.

The female relaxed and nodded. “No illness. No food. No rain, hard times.” Everything she said was accompanied by gestures as Storm frowned and appeared to struggle with what was said.

Storm went to the pot obviously containing liquid. She sniffed and scrunched her nose, the ammonia was a dead giveaway. They were cooking urine. Storm had heard of such a thing in extreme survival conditions. Everywhere she gazed was dry as dust. She guessed it had been months or perhaps years since rain had fallen. Utilizing what meager means they had didn’t make them disgusting; it was a smart idea, a desperate one, too. The question was what was cooked in it? Or maybe who. The female saw her eyeing the pot. She went to scoop up what looked to be small animal bits and Storm gagged.

“No worries for you,” the female said, again gesturing and placing a soft hand on Storm’s arm. “I am Day; you are young yet, can carry.”

Carry what? Lunch? Oh my God.

“Day, where little ones, old?” Storm made a gesture with her hands to indicate smaller aliens of their kind as she struggled on purpose to speak. She was also trying to get past the huge lump that formed in her throat.

“Must be feast for strong healthy warriors.”

Storm knew every ounce of blood drained from her face. There was no threat that needed eradicating; these cannibals already ate any threat no doubt. She stumbled from the lean-to and vomited. Citun was up as she staggered into his arms.

“Citun, they’re cannibals. They want you as food not as warriors. We need to run. Call your ship, hurry.”

As she cried out her fear to Citun, more villagers from under fake mounds of dirt climbed from hiding places to run at them. Storm was amazed, they came from everywhere, she never would have guessed at the ingenuity. The mounds blended so well they were undetectable. Citun managed to click his tracker before being overwhelmed with fifty males. For each warrior there were at least fifty to subdue them. There was no way she could battle so many, no way Citun could.

A male laughed as Citun and the others fell, saying they could lure the rest of Citun’s men down in groups for their feast. They could kill these warriors first for food. The rest they could hide underground. Storm ran. She didn’t know what to do. At least four hundred aliens had converged onto the warriors.

None of the males paid her any attention. She knew why. Day had told her. She was female and could carry. There was nowhere for her to go. They would find her eventually. Storm ran until her lungs were about to burst. She dropped to her knees then side and lay face first in the dead earth gasping.

She rolled over and sat up. Storm knew she had to go back. She had to help. There were too many, though. She couldn’t stand the thought of watching Citun being cooked piece by piece. A small clicking sounded and she wondered for a second if a bug were hunting her. She shook as darkness closed around her, her insides ached. Her guts were screaming in agony. When her feet hit the hard floor she would have fallen if Jari didn’t clasp her to his chest.

“Take some deep breaths,” Jari said. “It’s hard for a female to transport to our ship when not in the arms of a warrior. Citun shielded you each time.”

“Jari, those aliens. They want to eat the warriors, get them out of there.” Storm gasped.

Storm heard a scream and she watched Lano sink to the ground. Jari released Storm and went to pick her up. He cradled Lano against him for a moment before handing her to another.

“The warriors must have been stripped off their trackers. I can’t get a signal on anyone.” Jari gripped Storm by the shoulders. “How many aliens?”

“Hundreds, at least fifty to each warrior. They came out of the ground spilling like a hill of ants. Citun and the others never saw it coming.”

“We need to go get them now,” Taft shouted.

“There are eighty warriors on this ship. If I lose even one, Citun will have my head. We need a plan,” Jari said.

“Send me back,” Storm said.

“Citun would slaughter me,” Jari said.

“No, listen, I speak their language. I can go back. A female named Day said they wouldn’t hurt me. I’m certain they’ll put me in her care. They would expect you to wait for a message from Citun. Maybe use a device to lure you down in groups for a feast. Once I am in their hands, I can weave between groups and whenever there is a smaller number I can signal. They have lean-tos and hide tents. Small groups won’t be noticed until you can launch one large attack. It’ll take some time but it’s all we have.”

“How do you plan on luring anyone? Or subduing anyone? The aliens will call a warning the second they see us,” Jari demanded.

Storm gazed at Ashala. “Ashala can hypnotize while I use my mind ability. We can lure groups of ten or more. But we have to move now. Pots were bubbling.”

“I scanned the area,” Jari said. “There’s very little water.”

“They cook in piss.”

Jari gazed at her as though she had two heads. “Piss?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me, someone find another tracking device for Ashala.”

“Wait a minute,” Taft howled.

Ashala gripped Taft’s hand. “It will be fine. Every time I activate the tracker I expect to see your face.”

Storm watched as a tracker was attached to Ashala. Jari clipped Storm’s off from plain view and held up the nickel-sized black device. She could tell by the embarrassed look on his face what he was about to say, but she spared him the discomfort. The aliens couldn’t see the device, or find it. She plucked the tracker from his hand. Turning her back on the warriors, she slipped her hand into her panties and grimaced with discomfort.

“Yuck, that’s nasty,” she complained. “I’d make a horrible spy.”

“Good to know,” was Jari’s wry reply. Storm went to hold Ashala’s hand. “The second we land, disappear. You can find me.”

“Anywhere my friend.”

The landing wasn’t any smoother for either woman, and both dropped to their knees gasping. A hand to her belly, Storm twisted to gaze at Ashala.

“Go.”

Ashala disappeared. Storm began the trek back to the village. It wasn’t hard to locate. They were as quiet as a frat party gone wild. The second she was spotted, she was grabbed, felt up and when no device was found, they took her to Day, pushing her into the lean-to. Day appeared sad to see her but wasn’t surprised.

“How can you do this?” Storm demanded.

“This or die.”

“You coax others here to eat them?”

“An alien vessel landed years ago. The shuttle was inoperable but we learned how to send distress messages. We have no space flight. We have eaten every resource, the land, the water. Everything. We need to survive.”

“No you don’t. Not off the suffering of others.”

Storm concentrated. She invaded the woman’s mind and plunged her into unconsciousness. She dragged her to a dirt hide out and shoved her in. The woman would remain comatose until Storm released her. She made her way to a dirt and rock mound she guessed was a home of sorts. As soon as she entered, three males grabbed her, and she saw a Zargonnii warrior struggling; his fear was for Storm.

As bravely as she could, Storm rubbed her hands over each male to appear interested. She dipped her hand into her panties as they watched fascinated.

She smiled and called in a whisper meant to sound sexy. They didn’t understand the Zargonnii language. “Ashala, let’s kick ass.”

When Ashala appeared, the males, all fifteen, went still. Her ash swirled as Storm directed swirling patterns to catch not just one male but all in a web of hypnotism. Soon all were motionless. Three Warriors appeared, Taft first. He grabbed the nearest male and snapped his neck so badly it hung to the side. Storm wanted to freeze in terror; instead, she ran to the tied warrior and using a sharp rock struggled with his bonds until another warrior aided her. Once the warrior was free, Ashala disappeared.

Storm knew as she turned, she would witness a gruesome violence. Quiet and deadly warriors rammed hands through broken rib cages to pull out hearts of their victims. Quiet death and violence didn’t lessen the brutality. Jari gave her a quick nod. The dead disappeared with the warriors. She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders, Storm wasn’t nearly done.

* * * *

Citun fought to release his bonds as his warrior was placed face down over rocks. The sharp material above would cut the warrior into pot size pieces. The idea floored him. After Citun burned a number of males alive, his warrior was blindfolded and smashed into unconsciousness. A dagger made of a substance he had never seen sliced across the warrior’s chest leaving a trail of blood as it glowed. Not much could penetrate a Zargonnii’s flesh. The threat was clear. If he burned one more villager his warrior would die. But they were about to die anyway. There were too many male aliens. Each was in possession of a strange dagger. Citun knew if his men launched a single attack, they would be doomed. The material was too deadly.

When Storm slipped into the room of twenty aliens, Citun bellowed. He watched as Storm trailed her finger down the cheek of the closest male. He struggled as she rubbed the chest of another. Eyes wide, it was a blow when she slipped her hand into her panties and smiled at him. The next thing he knew she was using a sultry voice to say…”Ashala.”

Ashala?

When the little alien female appeared, Storm and she immediately held hands as ash slipped into the mouths and noses of each alien. Every male stopped dead. Including the one tying off the rope to the sharp rocks. The rope slipped and Citun bellowed. The spell was broken as Storm spun to use her ability to save the warrior.

The room filled with Zargonnii warriors. A blood bath was taking place within and from outside. Jari was bellowing to him the warriors were in control. Incredulous, Citun realized they must have been dispatching aliens until the numbers were fair. Storm and Ashala were working as a team. A male alien tried to grab Storm, and Citun used every ounce of his strength, the bonds cutting into his flesh as he freed his limbs. He raced to the rock contraption, grabbed the top bed with flesh splitting shards and threw it into a group of aliens. All were sliced to pieces on impact.

Storm was trying to fight off the male alien, she tossed him back but not far, forcing him to release his dagger, and Citun noticed her utter exhaustion. Citun ripped into the male, splitting him in half sending pieces in each direction. The walls and floors were coated in blood, and Citun and his warriors didn’t stop. The frozen fear on Storm’s face made his heart hurt, but they were in a battle for their lives. He wanted to call to her to close her eyes, not see the death machines he and his warriors were, but he couldn’t.

A shrill scream, and Citun turned to see a sharp weapon thrown. The alien’s access to a material Citun had never encountered not only included daggers as weapons. A spear so intense, was thrown and he knew he was about to suffer real pain. There was no escape, a wall to his left, Storm to his right. The spear would cut her in two. Her agonized expression went from him to the weapon to the alien males cut to pieces with the same material. Realization lit her gaze. Citun bellowed when Storm jumped in front of him. She had no way of knowing the material was like nothing he had ever encountered, stronger than any material known to the Zargonnii. She would be killed. He grabbed her arms and tried to turn but it was too late. Storm screamed in fury and fear and slumped.

Terrified, wanting to die, not wanting to see her blood, Citun turned her limp form in his arms and as he did, he heard a
thunk
to either side of him. Storm had used the last of her strength to split the material down the middle. He knew the power of her thoughts was strong, but his little warrior had saved his life, risking her own. Her attempt had cost her life. The material could have split her mind as she focused her thoughts on it.

As Citun cradled her into his arms, he thought she was dead. His heart thumped in his throat. She was supposed to be his mate. He loved her the second he set eyes on her. He’d lost her. How could a warrior lose his own mate in battle? Citun threw back his head and bellowed. He dropped to his knees. This was his fault. He brought her here.