Sorcha The Alien Book One

Chapter Six

Grey clouds conjure above Sask and I, they roll in from the west on a bitter wind. Over flat orange land and a far-off horizon. A parched sandy ground, but it won't be thirsty much longer. Fat blobs of water fall from the sky, and hammer against my helmet.

Sask is breathing deeply but still unconscious. And silent; for the first time in weeks only my voice reverberates in my mind. I huddle against her, lost and alone. What do I do? Tears trickle from my eyes. The wound on her back is grotesque. A few weeks to heal, and she'll be unconscious the entire time. She'll heal, but what will become of me?

I can't help but think of myself starving to death on this arid world.

The wind is silent as it sweeps across the land unhindered and only whistles when it reaches Sask and I. I cling onto her neck for fear of being swept away. Bold forks of lighting flash, they illuminate the ground around me. Wet and muddy. The microphone upon my spacesuit picks up the awful sounds of thunder and there's nothing I can do to escape it.

The sky illuminates, but this time it's not due to the lightning storm. I stare up and watch in horror as a ship descends, spotlights trained on the two of us, imprisoning us in a bright white cone of rain and smoke from the ship's thrusters. Rain and wind batter shiny black metal, but even their fury does not deter it, they do not alter its course.

Thrusters fire beneath the ship and then cut out completely as the ship gently jolts against the ground. Water rolls from the black hull. It's a ship of fierce-angled beauty, without even windows to break it flawless threat. This ship looks built to cut through the courage of its foes. A ship designed to break resolve on sight.

I huddle closer to Sask as a fresh breath of wind hurtles across the land. A lone figure steps out of the ship, they brace their body and tread slowly, steadily. Closer they come and I grip Sask tighter, as if I could even hope to protect her from the approaching eight-foot silhouette.

They pause before Sask, their arm lifts and they hold it to their mouth. Words project loudly from the alien, in a variety of languages, and I know them all.

"Non-compliance will result in death," says a robotic voice, and the figure who I presume entra, aims a gun. "Drop all weapons, walk slowly towards me."

I stand. Every inch of my body is screaming for me to run, and I listen.

My boots pound against the ground and the wind ups my momentum. A Herculean gust pushes me and snatches me from the ground, like gravity took a vacation. I lift inches high before being flung from its invisible hold. Mud flies into the air and mires my helmet as I scrabble to my feet. I run, but where to? There's nothing in any direction.

A pair of hands grab my waist and hoist me from the ground. I'm flung over the entra's shoulder as if I'm no more than a rag doll. My fists pound against this person, they ring against their metal suit.

"I said, non-compliance will result in death," her voice comes through the speaker in my helmet, no longer as robotic, or as threatening.

"So, kill me!" I shout.

"Ahhh, so you do understand me ... following instructions is your issue."

"Put me down! I'm not going on your ship!" I scream, my voice tangles around alien words, and I'm certain I butcher them.

"Yeah?" she says with a laugh. "I think you might be."

Her boots ring across metal and I catch one last glimpse of Sask before the ramp raises with a clang. It blocks the wind's scream and the thunder's fury. Silence, but for the sound of my agitated breath. We stand in a docking bay, black metal surrounds us and ten small one-person ships. An organised, sterile place, clean and cold.